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THE  STORY 
OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 


THE  STORY  OF 
FRENCH  PAINTING 


BY 

CHARLES  H.  CAFFIN 

AUTHOR    OF 

"  HOW    TO    STUDY    PICTURES  " 

"  THE    STORY    OF    DUTCH    PAINTING  " 

"  THE    STORY    OF   SPANISH    PAINTING  " 

ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1911 


Copyright,  1911,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


Published  October,  1911 


TO 

MY  CRITIC,  COUNSELOR 

AND  HELPMATE 

C.  C. 


488019 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

i  THE  BACKGROUND 


n  PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 15 

m  THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 37 

iv  ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN  KING 51 

v  POUSSIN  AND  CLAUDE  LORRAIN 63 

vi  THE  Rococo 68 

vii  REVOLUTION 91 

viii  LES  VAILLANTS  DE  DIX-HUIT-CENT-TRENTE        .     .     .  105 

rx  LE  JUSTE-MILIEU 120 

x  THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 130 

xi  MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 149 

xn  REALISM — G.  COURBET    .  160 

xm  MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 166 

xiv  RENOIR 180 

xv  NEO-IMPRESSIONISM 183 

xvi  PENUMBRA 188 

xvn  Puvis  DE  CHAVANNES 195 

xvni  LA  FIN  DE  SIECLE 202 

xix  HENRI  MATISSE 211 

xx  PAUL  CEZANNE .  217 


vii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PORTRAIT  OF  FRANCIS  I      ...  Jean  Clouet    .     Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

THE  DEPOSITION Unknown  Master  of  the 

XV  Century     ...     20 

PIETA School  of  Avignon    .     .  29 

PORTRAIT  or  CHARLES  VII     .     .   Jean  Foucquet     ...  34 

DIANA School  of  Fontainebleau  47 

PORTRAIT  or  BOSSUET  ....  Hyacinthe  Rigaud    .     .  58 

"ET  EGO  IN  ARCADIA"       .     .     .  Nicolas  Poussin   ...  65 

LANDING  OF  CLEOPATRA  AT 

TARSUS Claude  Lorrain    ...     66 

GILLES    * Jean  Antoine  Watteau  79 

LA  MAITRESSE  D'ECOLE      ...  Jean  Honore  Fragonard  80 

PRINCESSE  DE  CONDE  AS  DIANA  Jean  Marc  Nattier    .     .  87 

MOTHER  AND  SON Jean  Baptist e  Chardin  .  90 

By  courtesy  of  Franz  Hanfstaengl. 

PORTRAIT  OF  MADAME  RECAMIER    Jacques  Louis  David    .      97 
PORTRAIT  OF  MADAME  RECAMIER    Francois  Pascal  Gerard  100 

PORTRAIT  OF  MADAME  RIVIERE     .  JeanAuguste  Dominique 

Ingres 109 

ix 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

MASSACRE  OF  CHIOS       ....  Eugene  Delacroix     .     .  112 

LES  AVOCATS Honor  e  Daumier       .     .117 

NIGHT  PATROL  AT  SMYRNA    .     .  Alexandre  Decamps       .  124 
DANCE  OF  THE  NYMPHS     .     .     .  Corot 132 

From  a  photograph  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Cie. 

THE  EDGE  OF  THE  FOREST — 

SUNSET Rousseau 141 

From  a  photograph  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Cie. 

THE  SOWER         Jean  Francois  Millet     .  151 

THE  PROCESSION Lucien  Simon       .     .     .  154 

GOING  TO  CHURCH Charles  Cottet     .     .     .  158 

LE  RE  VEIL Gustave  Courbet       .     .161 

THE  GUITARIST Edouard  Manet    .     .     .  164 

THE  DANCING  LESSON       .     .     .  Degas 173 

POPLARS     ........  Claude  Monet       .     .     .  176 

LA  LOGE Pierre  Auguste  Renoir .  180 

BATHING George  Seurat      .     .     .  183 

LANDSCAPE Paul  Signac     ....  186 

THE  BATHERS Emile  Rene  Menard  .     .189 

PORTRAIT  OF  EDOUARD  MANET    .  Henri  Fantm-Latour    .  193 

MATERNITE Eugene  Carrier  e  .     .     .194 

INTER  ARTES  ET  NATURAM     .     .  Puvis  de  Chavannes  .     .197 

From  a  photograph  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Cie. 
X 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

DECORATION Maurice  Denis     .     .     .  204 

THE  APPARITION Gustave  Moreau  .     .     .  207 

PORTRAIT  OF  MLLE.  REJANE      .  Besnard 208 

TAHITI Paid  Gauguin  ....  210 

STUDY  OF  A  WOMAN      ....  Henri  Matisse      .     .     .  213 
LANDSCAPE  .   Paul  Cezanne  .  220 


For  permission  to  reproduce  certain  of  the  pictures  the 
Author  extends  his  thanks  to 

The  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York. 

The  Art  Institute,  Chicago. 

Durand-Ruel  et  fils. 


FOREWORD 

WHILE  this  book  discusses  a  number  of  indi- 
vidual painters,  it  makes  no  pretension  to  ency- 
clopedic completeness.  It  is  primarily  concerned  with 
principles.  It  aims  to  trace  the  evolution  of  French 
painting  as  it  has  been  affected  by  outside  influences 
and  has  been  shaped  by  the  genius  of  the  French  race. 
Nor  does  it  view  the  subject  as  an  isolated  phenomenon 
of  French  culture.  It  aims  to  correlate  the  growth  of 
French  painting  with  the  changes  in  the  social  and 
political  life  of  the  nation  and  with  the  manifestations 
of  the  esprit  gaulois  in  other  departments  of  intellectual 
and  artistic  activity,  particularly  in  that  of  literature. 

For  as  a  leader  in  intellectual  and  artistic  culture 
France  has  maintained  her  ascendancy  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sixteenth  century.  Paris  during  the  late 
century  has  been  to  the  modern  world  the  clearing- 
house of  artistic  methods  and  ideals. 

The  Story  of  French  Painting  is,  therefore,  in  a  large 
measure  the  recapitulation  of  the  varying  motives  and 
methods  of  painting  in  the  modern  world.  It  has  a 


FOREWORD 

special  interest  for  us  in  America,  since  our  painters 
are  handing  on  to  others  the  principles  which  they 
derived  from  their  studentship  in  Paris^  It  is  true  that 
there  is  an  attempt  to  substitute  for  the  influence  of 
Paris  that  of  Rome,  where  an  American  School  of  Fine 
Arts  has  been  established.  But  this  is,  I  venture  to 
believe,  a  reactionary  move;  a  grasping  of  the  dead 
hand  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  instead  of  a  living 
companionship  with  what  is  alive  in  modern  progress. 

The  latter  involves,  it  is  to  be  admitted,  much  that  is 
intellectually  and  artistically  confused  and  tentative. 
But  the  student  is  himself  a  part  of  the  progress  and 
must  face  the  issue  and  assist  in  clearing  its  confusion 
and  establishing  it  on  a  basis  of  stability  and  permanence. 
He  cannot,  if  he  is  alive  to  the  modern  spirit,  afford  to 
play  the  ostrich. 

It  goes  without  saying,  however,  that  the  part  of  the 
story  most  difficult  to  write  and  to  estimate  deals  with 
the  manifestations  of  the  near  present,  which  as  yet  we 
are  compelled  to  view  without  the  advantage  of  a 
lengthened  perspective.  How  far  these  manifestations 
represent  elements  of  vital  growth  and  embody  some- 
thing durable  and  sound  amid  the  flux  of  change  must, 
in  the  nature  of  the  case,  be  largely  a  matter  of  conjecture. 

There  is  no  finality  in  human  development ;  therefore 
a  story  such  as  this  must  necessarily  conclude  with  a 
ragged  edge.  It  can  but  bring  up  to  date  the  unfinished 

xiv 


FOREWORD 

recital  of  French  development ;  the  latest  chapter  in  the 
life  of  a  nation  that  is  still  very  much  alive  and  is  moving 
with  the  times ;  that  has  its  roots  in  a  long  past  of  its 
own  and  is  a-quiver  with  the  modern  spirit. 

For  the  French  have  been  the  only  race  since  the 
Italians  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Greeks  of  antiquity 
to  whom  art  in  its  various  forms  is  a  natural  and  inevit- 
able expression  of  what  is  for  the  time  being  their 
attitude  toward  life. 

CHARLES  H.   CAFFIN. 
New  York, 

September,  1911. 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 


THE  STORY 
OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   BACKGROUND 

FT^lHE  accession  of  Francis  I  in  1515  presents  a 
convenient  starting  point  for  the  study  of 

.A  French  painting  provided  one  looks  back  as  well 
as  forward.  For  it  was  at  this  period  of  coming  into 
touch  with  the  Italian  Renaissance  that  modern  France 
emerged  from  medievalism.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
must  not  be  overlooked  that  there  was  a  vigorous 
growth  of  French  painting  before  the  arrival  of  Italian 
influence  and  that  the  latter,  while  it  stimulated,  never 
submerged  the  French  genius.  France  indeed,  through 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  her  development,  has  preserved 
her  Northern  rather  than  her  Mediterranean  traits. 

For  the  French  nation  has  been  too  exclusively  iden- 
tified with  the  Latin  race.  It  is  true  that  the  French 
language  has  its  roots  in  the  Latin ;  that  the  Roman  oc- 
cupation left  an  indelible  mark  upon  the  race  and  its  in- 
stitutions, particularly  in  the  South,  and  that  after  the 
fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
preserved  the  tradition  of  Latin  civilization.  But  the 


forms  of  the  language,  its  idioms,  and  essential  spirit 
are  non-Latin,  while  very  far  from  being  undiluted 
Latin,  is  the  race  itself. 

The  race,  originally  Celtic  and  Ligurian,  had  been 
infused  with  Gallic,  and  nearly  six  centuries  before  the 
appearance  of  Caesar,  Marseilles  and  other  Greek 
colonies  had  been  planted  along  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean.  It  was  with  this  already  mixed 
strain  that  during  the  first  four  hundred  years  of  the 
Christian  era  the  Latin  blood  was  mingled.  Then  fol- 
lowed successive  invasions  of  German  tribes,  Franks, 
Allemans,  Goths,  and  Burgundians. 

In  485  Clovis  the  Frank  established  dominion  over  a 
large  number  of  these  rival  tribes  and  founded 
the  French  monarchy.  This  so-called  Merovingian 
dynasty  persisted  for  two  hundred  and  sixty-seven 
years.  Then,  the  last  of  its  enfeebled  kings  yielding 
to  the  increased  authority  of  the  Mayors  of  the 
Palace,  Pepin  founded  the  Carlovingian  dynasty, 
which  reached  its  zenith  under  his  son  Charlemagne. 
The  latter's  ambitions  were  imperial  and  resulted  in  an 
empire  which  extended  east  and  west  of  the  Rhine. 
It  did  not,  however,  long  survive  his  death.  Under 
the  rule  of  his  son  and  successor,  Louis  the  Pious,  the 
process  of  disintegration  began.  Hollo  the  Dane  and 
his  Northmen  established  the  Dukedom  of  Normandy. 
Meanwhile,  the  stronger  German  element  began  to 
gravitate  across  the  Rhine  to  the  east,  consolidating 
a  German  empire  and  leaving  a  residuum  that  in  lan- 
guage, customs  and  government  grew  to  be  distin- 
guishably  French.  Finally,  in  987,  Hugh  Capet,  Duke 


THE  BACKGROUND 

of  Paris,  established  a  supremacy  over  the  other  duke- 
doms into  which  France  had  become  divided  and  founded 
the  Capetian,  or  third  French  dynasty.  This  was  some 
five  hundred  years  later  than  the  original  invasion  of  the 
Germanic  tribes. 

Racially,  therefore,  as  the  French  historian  M.  R. 
de  Maulde  la  Claviere  observes,  "France  is  a  singular 
country.  We  are  slightly  Greek,  half  Latin  or  Li- 
gurian,  very  Gallic  or  very  German,  and  in  the  West, 
the  country  of  an  intellectual  gulf -stream,  we  are 
dreamers — Celts." 

•  ••*•••• 

Hugh  Capet,  as  Duke  of  the  Royal  Domain,  which 
extended  northward  from  Paris  as  far  as  Amiens  and 
southward  to  Orleans,  was  a  peer  among  his  equals, 
who  at  the  time  numbered  one  hundred  and  fifty  dukes, 
counts  and  barons.  Their  fiefs,  which  had  become  he- 
reditary, were  independent,  yet  mutually  bound  to- 
gether by  the  complicated  network  of  suzerainty  and 
vassalage  of  the  Feudal  System.  The  most  important 
included,  along  the  shore  of  the  Channel,  Brittany, 
Normandy  and  Flanders,  the  last  extending  to  the 
Rhine;  on  the  East,  Burgundy;  on  the  West,  Anjou, 
Poitou  and  Aquitaine;  and  in  the  South,  Auvergne, 
Gascony,  Toulouse  and  Provence.  Geographically  di- 
vided into  two  sections  by  the  course  of  the  Loire,  the 
Southern  part,  superior  at  this  time  in  civilization,  was 
distinguished  by  their  use  of  the  Langue  d'  Oc,  while 
the  Langue  dj  Oil  obtained  in  the  North.  The  distinc- 
tion was  derived  from  corruptions  of  the  Latin  words, 
hoc  and  hoc-illud,  which  were  respectively  employed  as 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

terms  of  affirmation.  The  Langue  d'  Oc,  while  it  ad- 
mitted many  varieties  of  dialect,  remained  closer  to  its 
Latin  origin  in  vowel  sounds,  inflections  and  vocabulary 
and  generally  was  softer,  more  harmonious  and  cun- 
ningly cadenced  than  the  Northern  French.  The  lat- 
ter, on  the  other  hand,  excelled  in  vigor,  variety  and 
freshness  (Saintsbury) :  qualities  that  fitted  it  to  grow 
with  the  development  of  the  nation,  until  it  has  become 
the  language  of  modern  France. 

The  determining  influences  of  the  Capetian  dynasty 
were  the  Crusades  and  the  institution  of  Chivalry. 
Under  the  influence  of  a  moral  ideal  and  bound  to- 
gether by  sentiments  of  honor  and  fraternity,  the  no- 
bility were  less  disposed  to  internecine  rivalry,  and  cul- 
tivated habits  of  courtesy  and  respect  for  women  which 
ameliorated  the  conditions  of  society.  The  immense 
preparations  demanded  by  the  Crusades  encouraged  the 
trades  and  handicrafts,  while  the  actual  expeditions 
tended  to  bring  the  West  into  contact  with  the  older 
civilization  of  the  East  and  to  hasten  the  revival  of 
classic  learning.  Further,  the  huge  loss  of  life  drained 
the  power  of  the  nobility,  until  it  ceased  to  be  so  formid- 
able a  menace  alike  to  the  authority  of  the  Crown  and 
to  the  growing  freedom  of  the  cities.  Meanwhile,  the 
bulk  of  the  population  was  in  abject  serfdom,  so  that 
the  country  was  able  to  offer  little  resistance  to  the 
encroachments  of  the  English.  The  rivalry  of  Ed- 
ward III  with  Philip  VI,  first  king  of  the  House  of 
Valois,  started  the  Hundred  Years'  War  (1340-1453), 
which  depleted  what  was  left  of  French  chivalry  and 
brought  protracted  disaster  to  the  whole  community, 


THE  BACKGROUND 

until  finally  the  tide  of  victory  was  turned  by  the  mystic 
heroism  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

The  Feudal  System,  which  the  circumstances  of  war 
had  disintegrated,  received  its  quietus  from  Louis  XI 
(1461-1483).  By  direct  attack  and  the  indirect  as- 
saults of  diplomacy  he  wore  down  a  condition  of  society 
which  had  served  its  time  and  was  now  only  a  hindrance 
to  peace,  order  and  sound  government.  As  a  counter- 
poise to  the  power  of  the  barons  he  "created  parliaments 
at  Grenoble,  Bordeaux  and  Dijon;  multiplied  appeals 
to  the  King's  Court  against  sentences  pronounced  by 
the  feudal  tribunals,  retained  existing  provincial  as- 
semblies and  created  new  ones;  sanctioned  free  elec- 
tion of  magistrates,  and  granted  to  the  bourgeoisie 
privileges  which  enabled  them  to  hold  their  own  against 
the  barons."  He  also  encouraged  manufactures,  in- 
dustries and  commerce.  Upon  his  deathbed  he  con- 
fided his  son  and  heir,  Charles  VIII,  a  boy  of  thirteen, 
to  the  care  of  his  daughter  Anne  of  Beaujeu.  The 
latter  was  only  twenty-three  years  of  age,  but,  as  her 
father  used  to  say  of  her,  "She  is  the  least  foolish 
woman  in  the  world;  for  there  is  no  such  person  as  a 
wise  one." 

Of  the  events  of  Charles's  reign  it  is  sufficient  to  re- 
call that  he  married  Anne  of  Brittany,  thus  uniting 
the  duchy  of  Brittany  and  that  of  Anjou  to  the  French 
Crown,  and  accepted  the  invitation  made  to  him  by 
some  of  the  enemies  of  Pope  Alexander  VI  to  invade 
Italy.  The  foreign  entanglement  was  carried  forward 
by  his  grand-nephew  and  successor  Louis  XII,  who 
also  married  his  uncle's  widow,  Anne  of  Brittany. 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

While  the  king  thus  laid  the  trail  that  brought  France 
into  contact  with  Italian  culture,  and  by  economies  at 
home  and  encouragement  of  peace  and  commerce  pre- 
pared the  country  to  benefit  by  the  new  impulses,  his 
queen  contributed  to  the  growth  of  a  gentler  and  more 
refined  influence  by  establishing  a  court  at  which  women 
for  the  first  time  appeared  in  society.  Henceforth  the 
feminine  equation  enters  conspicuously  into  the  actual 
government  of  France  as  well  as  into  the  story  of  her 
artistic  development.  With  the  exception  of  the 
period  of  masculine  domination  during  the  vigorous 
rule  of  Louis  XIV,  before  he  succumbed  to  the  sway 
of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  feminine  influence  in  the 
various  forms  of  wife,  queen-mother,  mistress  or  leader 
of  a  salon,  predominated  until  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

That  it  made  its  appearance  at  the  close  of  the 
medieval  period  is  natural  enough,  since  the  causes 
which  made  for  the  breaking  up  of  the  feudal  system 
must  have  long  contributed  to  the  independence  and 
efficiency  of  the  women.  During  their  husbands'  ab- 
sence from  home  in  the  wars  and  the  minority  of  their 
fatherless  sons,  they  would  be  compelled  to  under- 
take the  management  of  the  estate,  and  even  the  dis- 
pensing of  justice.  Under  such  circumstances  thou- 
sands of  women,  unknown  to  fame,  must  have  been 
entitled  to  Brantome's  description  of  Anne  of  Beaujeu 
as  "the  cleverest  and  ablest  lady  that  ever  was";  while 
many  must  have  solaced  their  loneliness  with  study,  as 
did  Anne  of  Brittany,  "who  understood  Latin  and  a 
little  Greek."  To  extend  the  opportunity  of  intellectual 


THE  BACKGROUND 

culture  to  other  women  was  partly,  no  doubt,  her  mo- 
tive in  assembling  at  court  the  younger  ladies  of  noble 
families.  Similarly,  in  the  succeeding  reign  of  Francis 
I,  woman's  influence  was  decisive.  His  mother,  Louise 
of  Savoy,  had  reared  him  as  befitted  a  gallant  knight 
rather  than  a  monarch.  He  was  trained  in  the  code  of 
chivalry  and  of  heroic  ideals  by  familiarity  with  the 
poetic  romances  of  the  Chansons  de  Gestes.  His  thirst 
for  glory,  in  consequence,  exceeded  his  capacity  for 
war.  He  failed  in  his  military  adventures,  but  was  the 
center  of  an  elegant  and  gallant  court.  Meanwhile  his 
sister,  Margaret  of  Navarre  or  Angouleme,  was  in- 
tellectually his  superior.  During  his  captivity  in 
Spain,  following  the  defeat  at  Pavia,  she  handled  the 
reins  of  government ;  and  after  her  brother's  restoration 
established  a  court  of  her  own  at  Nerac,  which  rivaled 
the  esprit  and  splendor  of  those  at  Fountainebleau  and 
the  Louvre.  Here  she  reigned  as  queen  over  a  little 
kingdom  of  arts  and  letters;  encouraging  native 
scholars  and  poets  as  well  as  offering  hospitality  to 
Italians;  nurturing  a  spirit  of  catholic  tolerance  by  ex- 
tending honor  alike  to  Calvin  and  Boccaccio,  and  con- 
tributing with  her  own  pen  to  poetry  and  prose  and 
even  to  morality  plays  and  farces.  Her  poems,  collected 
under  the  title,  Les  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite 
la  Princesse,  rank  her  among  the  poets  of  the  time, 
second  only  to  Clement  Marot,  whom  she  befriended 
when  he  was  being  pursued  by  the  Church  for  the 
freedom  of  his  expressions;  while  she  not  only  caused 
the  Decameron  to  be  translated  into  French,  but  her- 
self composed  a  heptameron,  which  comprised  fifteen 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

novelettes  on  the  model  of  Boccaccio's.  She  was,  in- 
deed, a  very  vital  influence  in  stimulating  and  directing 
the  beginnings  of  the  French  Renaissance. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  while  contact 
with  Italian  culture  brought  about  a  renaissance  in 
France,  the  latter  country  was  no  stranger  to  learning 
or  to  arts  and  letters.  The  eleventh,  twelfth  and 
thirteenth  centuries — the  period  also  distinguished  by 
the  extent  and  perfection  of  cathedral  and  church 
building — had  produced  the  epic  poems,  Chansons  de 
Gestes.  The  most  famous  is  the  Chanson  de  Roland, 
based  on  the  exploits  of  Charlemagne,  though  dignify- 
ing Roland  even  more  than  the  emperor.  Again,  to- 
ward the  end  of  the  twelfth  century  appeared  the 
French  version  of  the  Arthurian  legend,  originally 
written  in  nervous,  picturesque  prose,  but  later  versified 
by  Chrestien  de  Troyes,  some  of  whose  poems,  as 
Saintsbury  says,  "are  deeply  imbued  with  religious 
mysticism,  passionate  gallantry  and  refined  courtesy 
of  manners."  So  far,  however,  a  spirit  distinguishably 
French  is  not  represented.  The  Chansons  de  Gestes 
are  Teutonic,  probably  in  origin  and  certainly  in 
genius;  the  Arthurian  legends  are  tinged  with  the 
Celtic  and  Byzantine,  while  the  Provensal  poetry  is 
rather  akin  to  the  temperament  and  character  of  Span- 
ish and  Italian  literature.  Moreover,  all  these  forms 
have  a  quality  of  artificiality  and  are  the  expressions  of 
courtly  and  knightly  society  and  not  of  the  nation  at 
large.  The  latter  was  for  the  first  time  represented 
in  the  Fabliaux  which  were  produced  from  the  latter 


THE  BACKGROUND 

half  of  the  twelfth  to  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth 
centuries.  They  have  been  defined  as  "a  recital,  for 
the  most  part  comic,  of  an  adventure  real  or  possible, 
which  occurs  in  the  ordinary  conditions  of  human  life." 
In  fact  the  esprit  gaulois  makes  its  first  appearance  in 
the  mocking  raillery  of  these  ludicrous  presentations 
of  life  and  humanity.  The  chief  target  for  their 
scoffing  is  the  weakness  of  the  female  sex  and  the 
frailty  of  the  clergy;  though  all  classes,  knights, 
burghers,  peasants,  come  in  for  their  share  of  ridicule. 
Their  popularity  passed  over  into  Italy  and  England, 
where  Boccaccio  and  Chaucer  imitated  them.  From 
Italy  they  return  to  France  in  a  Renaissance  guise; 
while  the  most  famous  of  these,  the  Roman  du  Re- 
nart,  wherein  the  characters  are  animals  and  birds, 
received  a  brilliant  transformation  in  the  Contes  of  La 
Fontaine,  and  quite  recently  in  the  Chantecler  of  M. 
Rostand. 

Akin  to  the  mocking  tone  of  the  Fabliaux  are  the 
satirical  lyrics  of  Adam  de  la  Halle  and  Ruteboeuf. 
On  the  other  hand  verse  was  the  medium  for  serious 
historical  themes,  as  in  the  Roman  de  Ron  (Rollo) 
by  Wace,  and  for  a  moral  story  in  allegorical  guise, 
as  in  the  very  famous  Roman  de  la  Rose.  This  poem 
of  twenty  thousand  lines  relates  the  poet's  dream.  He 
walks  abroad  on  a  fair  May  morning  until  he  reaches 
a  garden.  Upon  the  walls  are  painted  the  figures  of 
Hatred,  Covetousness,  Avarice,  Envy,  Sadness,  Old 
Age  and  Poverty.  Dame  Leisure  admits  him  through 
a  barred  wicket  and  introduces  him  to  Courtesy,  who 
invites  him  to  join  the  company  of  singers  and  dancers 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

in  the  train  of  Delight.  Wandering  toward  the 
Fountain  of  Narcissus  he  espies  a  Rosebud  and  covets 
it.  But  thorns  and  thistles  bar  his  approach  and  the 
God  of  Love  pierces  him  with  an  arrow.  Finally  after 
many  rebuffs  he  is  permitted  by  Venus  to  kiss  the  Rose- 
bud; whereupon  Shame  and  Jealousy  conspire  against 
him  and  he  is  driven  from  the  Garden.  So  far  the 
poem  was  written  by  one  William  de  Loiris.  It  was 
continued  by  Jean  de  Meung,  who  introduced  a  coarser 
vein  of  satirical  observation,  descanting  upon  the  ways 
of  women  and  the  subject  of  morality,  and  citing  in- 
numerable examples  from  sacred  and  secular  writings. 

The  taste  for  allegory  and  didactic  moralizing  en- 
gendered by  the  popularity  of  this  poem,  found  speedy 
expression  in  the  Morality  plays;  for  the  step  from 
narrative  form  to  one  in  which  the  characters  speak  in 
propria  persona  was  easy  and  natural.  Far  earlier  than 
these,  however,  had  been  the  Mystery  and  Miracle  plays ; 
the  former  dealing  with  the  Life  and  Passion  of  the 
Saviour  and  with  events  and  personages  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, the  latter  with  the  lives  of  the  Virgin  and  Saints. 
Originally  presented  in  the  church  or  cathedral  by  the 
clergy,  they  outgrew  the  limitations  of  the  sacred  ed- 
ifice and  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  laity;  becoming 
occasions  of  local  importance,  presided  over  by  the  sev- 
eral guilds  of  trades.  Finally  regular  societies  of  ac- 
tors were  formed  for  their  representation,  among  which 
the  earliest  and  most  famous  was  the  Confraternity  of 
the  Passion,,  licensed  in  Paris  in  1402. 

Meanwhile,  even  before  the  arrival  of  the  Moralities 
a  secular  drama  made  its  appearance.  To  Adam  de 

[123 


THE  BACKGROUND 

la  Halle  is  credited  the  earliest  known  comedy  in  the 
vulgar  tongue,  and  the  earliest  specimen  of  comic  opera. 
In  Li  Jus  de  la  Feuille,  the  author  relates  his 
own  troubles  with  his  wife  and  satirizes  other  citizens 
of  his  native  town,  Arras,  while  the  plot  of  Robin  and 
Manon  represents  a  dramatized  form  of  the  popular 
romantic  love  poems,  known  as  Pastourelles.  Also  re- 
lated to  the  Fabliaux  are  the  Farces  which  become  so 
characteristic  a  feature  of  the  French  drama.  The 
most  famous  is  that  of  PatTielin,  which  survived  the 
Renaissance,  was  included  in  1706  in  the  repertoire  of 
the  Theatre  Fran9ais  and  was  acted  in  Paris  so  recently 
as  1872.  For  the  performance  of  farces  the  clerks  of 
the  law  courts  had  organized  themselves  into  a  company, 
licensed  by  the  Crown,  known  as  La  Bazoche  du 
Palais;  while  various  Fool- Companies,  among  which 
Les  Enfants  Sans  Souci  were  conspicuous,  devoted 
themselves  to  that  peculiar  form  of  farce  known  as  the 
Sottie.  It  dealt  in  political  satire  and  was  performed 
by  typical  Fool  characters,  such  as  Prince  des  Sots 
(the  leader  of  the  company),  Mere  Sotte  and  the  like. 
The  most  famous  Mere  Sotte,  both  as  author  and  actor 
was  Pierre  Gringoire,  who  also  composed  a  mystery 
and  a  morality  for  the  trades  guilds  to  perform  and 
was  Master  of  the  Revels  on  the  occasion  of  official 
pageants.  Flourishing  under  Louis  XII,  his  popu- 
larity continued  into  the  reign  of  Francis  I,  notwith- 
standing the  latter's  dislike  of  the  freedom  of  the  Sottie, 
and  only  succumbed  to  the  change  of  taste  brought 
about  by  the  arrival  at  the  French  Court  of  the  Italian 
Comedians. 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

The  fact  which  stands  out  preeminently  in  the  fore- 
going brief  summary  of  the  literary  life  of  France 
prior  to  the  sixteenth  century  is  its  native  vigor  and 
racial  originality.  The  national  genius,  though  as  yet 
undeveloped  and  furnished  with  a  vehicle  of  language 
still  rude  in  form  and  lacking  in  quantity  and  subtlety 
of  vocabulary,  set  its  imprint  upon  everything  it 
handled.  In  the  Epic  of  Arthur,  the  satire  of  Renard 
and  the  allegorical  romance  of  the  Rose  it  produced  the 
three  most  popular  works  of  the  Middle  Ages.  More- 
over, "it  is  now  established  beyond  the  possibility  of 
doubt  that  to  France  almost  every  great  literary  style, 
as  distinguished  from  great  individual  works,  is  at  this 
period  due."  France,  in  fact,  had  demonstrated 
literary  greatness  of  a  high  order  and  undeniably  racial 
character  during  three  centuries  before  her  contact  with 
Italian  culture  initiated  her  own  Renaissance.  The 
same  is  true  of  her  painting. 


CHAPTER  II 

PRE-RENAISSANCE   ART 

THE  beginnings  of  painting  in  France,  as  in  all 
the  Northern  countries,  are  involved  in  obscur- 
ity. But  land  is  no  less  real,  because  it  has 
been  uncharted.  One  detects  its  vague  outlines 
against  the  obscurity  of  the  past,  while  nearer  in  point 
of  time  are  conspicuous  elevations,  arresting  and  en- 
grossing, notwithstanding  that  they  are  nameless.  They 
are  not  connected  with  the  remoter  past  as  in  Italy  by 
a  continuous  if  slender  tradition,  shading  back  through 
early  Christianity  to  Roman  days.  They  emerge  slowly 
out  of  the  background  of  Northern  barbarism.  Italy's 
first,  and  for  a  time,  sole  influence  upon  the  North  was 
that  she  handed  on  to  it  the  Christian  Faith.  From 
this  sprang  the  germs  of  civilization  which  the  French 
shaped  and  developed  according  to  their  own  tempera- 
ment and  needs. 

Christianity  had  lingered  on  among  the  remains  of 
Gallo-Roman  civilization,  but  had  become  swamped 
by  the  German  occupation.  The  Visigoths  and  Bur- 
gundians  were  the  first  to  embrace  the  Faith.  The  de- 
cisive point  was  reached,  however,  when  Clovis,  engaged 
in  consolidating  a  Frankish  monarchy,  yielded  to  the 
love  and  adroitness  of  his  Burgundian  Queen,  Clotilda, 
and  was  baptized  at  Rheims  in  496.  This  involved  at 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

least  the  nominal  acceptance  of  the  Faith  by  the  whole 
mass  of  the  Franks,  and  henceforth  France  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  Christian  country.  It  is  noteworthy  that 
at  this  period  the  Church  had  as  yet  no  magnificence 
in  her  places  of  worship.  Such  as  they  were  they  fol- 
lowed the  tradition  of  the  basilica  or  hall  of  justice;  a 
rectangular  interior,  with  an  apse  projecting  at  the 
eastern  end.  So  far  as  the  ecclesiastical  ritual  was 
sumptuously  furnished,  it  was  rather  in  the  way  of  vest- 
ments and  sacred  vessels  and  adornments,  objects,  in 
fact,  of  artistic  craftsmanship.  In  the  latter,  as  applied 
to  secular  purposes,  the  German  tribes  had  already  pos- 
sessed some  skill,  which  was  developed  and  led  into 
higher  planes  of  imaginative  invention  by  their  growth 
in  Christian  zeal. 

A  further  development  of  taste  and  skill  was  reached 
when  the  imperial  rule  of  Charlemagne  brought  the 
West  in  contact  with  the  East.  He  regarded  himself 
and  was  regarded  by  his  contemporaries  as  the  successor 
of  the  Eastern  emperors  and  it  was  to  Byzantium  and 
the  East  that  he  turned  for  the  glorification  of  his  power. 
When  he  established  his  palace  at  Aachen  (Aix- 
la-Chapelle)  he  obtained  permission  from  Pope  Adrian 
to  remove  thither  the  decorations  of  Theodoric's  palace 
at  Ravenna.  Its  pillars,  mosaic  pavements  and  panels 
of  marble,  were  incorporated  into  the  new  Basilica  at 
Aachen,  which  itself  was  modeled  upon  the  Church  of 
San  Vitale  in  Ravenna.  Moreover  the  emperor  had 
entered  into  friendly  relations  with  and  received  presents 
from  the  Saracen  Caliph,  Haroun-al-Raschid,  whose 
power  was  steadily  encroaching  upon  Byzantium. 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

Thus  it  was  by  the  older  Byzantine  art  and  by  the  im- 
mediate influence  of  the  East  and  not  by  the  example 
of  Roman  Italy  that  the  German  artistic  imagination 
was  in  the  first  instance  fertilized.  The  result  was  a 
gradual  Northern  growth  in  which  a  strain  of  Byzantine 
influence  is  perceptible,  while  on  the  other  hand  it  takes 
independent  forms,  reflecting  the  racial  distinctions  of 
German  proper,  Burgundian,  Flemish  and  Frank. 
All,  however,  have  a  common  trait  of  naturalistic  vigor, 
characteristically  Northern,  and  in  time  share  the  North- 
ern delight  in  craftsmanship. 

So  far  as  painting  is  concerned  the  development  pro- 
ceeds from  illumination  to  frescoed  adornments  of  the 
walls  of  churches  and  thence  to  the  separate  panel  pic- 
ture and  finally  to  the  painting  upon  canvas.  Through- 
out, the  decorative  instinct  prevails,  as  well  as  the  real- 
ization of  appearances  and  the  expression  of  sentiment, 
the  human  figure  being  used  in  combination  with  beauti- 
ful accessories  of  textiles,  architectural  glass  and  metal 
work,  mosaic  and  furniture,  until  the  picture  becomes  an 
epitome  of  all  the  art-crafts  of  the  period.  Nor,  while 
it  is  distinguished  by  elaborateness  of  detail,  is  it  lack- 
ing in  vigor  and  breadth  of  ensemble. 

This  fact  is  due  to  the  conditions  under  which  the 
early  art  of  the  North  was  produced.  These  were  not  in- 
dividualistic, but  socialistic,  in  the  sense  that  there  was  co- 
operation and  combination  among  all  the  workers  in  the 
various  united  arts.  This  great  efflorescence  of  energy 
began  after  A.  D.  1000,  when  Italy  was  still  asleep.  It 
had  been  popularly  expected  that  the  completion  of  the 
thousand  years  of  Christianity  would  bring  about  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

end  of  the  world  and  usher  in  the  terrors  of  the  Judg- 
ment. When  men  found  that  the  order  of  the  cosmos 
was  still  pursuing  its  routine,  the  immense  relief  found 
its  expression  in  a  renewed  joy  of  life  and  a  more  ardent 
piety.  Thus  commenced  the  great  era  of  cathedral  and 
church  building  which  extended  through  the  eleventh, 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries,  during  which  the 
Northern  genius  was  liberated  and  worked  in  the  en- 
thusiasm of  its  native  imagination.  And,  to  repeat,  it 
was  a  collective  effort  of  all  skilled  artists,  under  the 
impulse  of  a  great  Faith  and  of  a  great  belief  in  life. 
An  architecture  was  evolved  that  in  its  aspiration  to- 
ward the  infinite  and  in  its  adventurous  logic  of  con- 
struction, has  never  been  rivaled,  much  less  surpassed; 
until  even  Italy  was  kindled  by  its  example  and  con- 
descended to  learn  of  the  Northern  barbarian. 

In  the  vast  cathedrals  of  France  and  Germany,  the 
imagination  not  only  soared  heavenward  but  spread  it- 
self in  endless  vistas,  which  lose  themselves  in  the  mys- 
tery of  distance  and  intricacy,  for  they  enshrine  the 
mysticism  as  well  as  the  vigor  and  aspiration  of  the  race. 
Throughout  is  a  luxuriance  of  decorative  detail,  in- 
trinsically the  opposite  of  the  formal  logic  of  Roman 
and  Greek  art,  being  indeed  akin  to  the  freer  logic  of 
nature's  growth,  as  she  clothes  the  structure  of  the  tree 
with  an  outburst  from  within  of  leafage,  fruit  and 
flower.  Nor  is  the  ornament  so  purely  esthetic  as  the 
Greek  and  Roman.  It  is  also  intellectual  and,  in  a 
sense,  if  you  will,  literary.  It  embraces  forms  of  ugli- 
ness as  well  as  beauty;  embodies  in  animal  and  human 
shape,  now  natural,  now  grotesque,  the  racial  lust  of 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

life  and  the  inherited  myths  of  the  conflict  between 
physical  powers  of  good  and  evil,  of  darkness  and  light. 
It  is  a  hieratic  script,  of  human  significance  and  mean- 
ing, outcropping  from  the  edifice  and,  like  the  latter, 
an  embodiment  of  abstract  energy  and  exaltation  in 
terms  of  human  experience  and  feeling. 

To-day  these  cathedrals,  by  comparison  with  their 
origin,  are  impressive  sepulchers  of  memory.  A  thou- 
sand other  outside  interests  compete  with  them ;  they  are 
frequented  by  alien  sightseers,  or  at  best  by  worshipers 
whose  faith,  because  it  is  no  longer  shared  in  common 
by  all  the  world  about  them,  can  reverence  these  monu- 
ments of  high  physical  and  spiritual  exaltation  but  is 
powerless  to  rival  them.  So  it  is  only  by  a  difficult 
straining  of  the  imagination  that  one  can  picture  the 
ancient  days  when  the  cathedral  was  inevitably  the  shrine 
of  a  whole  community's  yearning  after  the  higher  life, 
both  in  its  relation  to  this  world  and  the  next ;  when  the 
faith  of  a  whole  people  served  as  a  mighty  impulse  to 
the  wealth  of  the  powerful  and  the  inventive  genius 
of  the  artists;  when  the  efforts  of  the  latter  diffused 
taste  and  appreciation  throughout  the  whole  community, 
until  it  reverenced  and  enjoyed,  as  a  possession  of  its 
own,  this  miracle  of  the  divine  working  in  the  human. 

Picture,  if  it  be  possible,  this  shrine  of  popular  de- 
votion and  pride,  not  completed,  for  successive  ages  will 
add  to  its  embellishment;  but  already  as  perfect  as  the 
genius  of  the  past  has  been  able  to  make  it;  an  edifice, 
rooted  in  strength  and  springing  upward  with  agile 
grace  and  freedom;  blossoming  with  sculptured  orna- 
ment ;  its  walls  opening  to  the  outside  light  in  innumer- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

able  traceried  windows  that  glow  with  the  splendor  of 
colored  glass ;  its  pavements  laid  with  marbles ;  its  furni- 
ture of  marvelously  carved  woodwork  and  wrought 
metal;  precious  metals  and  jewels  flashing  in  the  sacred 
vessels,  and  glory  of  textiles  and  embroideries  making 
sumptuous  the  furnishings  of  the  altar  and  of  those  who 
serve  before  it.  As  the  solemn  ritual  proceeds  in  the 
presence  of  the  kneeling  multitude  and  the  fragrance 
of  the  incense  bears  aloft  the  breath  of  united  faith  and 
adoration,  the  music  of  the  organ  and  the  voices,  another 
of  the  great  distinguishing  features  of  the  Northern 
cathedral,  rolls  forth  a  flood  that  fills  the  vast  spaces 
and  merges  the  thousandfold  forms  of  beauty  and  the 
collective  emotions  of  the  worshipers  in  a  wondrous 
ensemble  of  spiritual  harmony. 

The  human  appeal  of  these  cathedrals  was  increased 
during  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  by  the  pro- 
fuse use  of  statues.  Sculpture  had  attained  to  a 
greater  suppleness  and  freedom  of  action.  The  human 
forms  as  well  as  the  draperies  appear  to  have  been 
studied  from  models.  Moreover,  canons  of  form  seem  to 
have  been  established,  based  on  geometric  principles  and 
so  elaborated  as  to  cover  every  usual  attitude  and  gesture 
of  the  human  body.  By  following  these  formulas, 
laid  down  by  the  master  designers,  the  ordinary  workers 
were  able  to  secure  a  high  degree  of  grace  and  poise  of 
figure.  The  draperies  are  particularly  masterly,  vying 
with  those  of  the  Greeks.  Indeed  a  curious  strain  of 
affinity  with  the  Greek  feeling  is  apparent  in  this  early 
sculpture  and  will  appear  in  later  forms  of  both 
sculpture  and  painting.  Can  it  be  a  product  of  the 

[20;] 


CJ 
X 

M 

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PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

transfusion  of  the  Byzantine  influence  with  the  fresh- 
eyed  interest  in  nature  of  the  Germanic  race,  influenced 
in  turn  by  the  tender  refinement  of  the  Celtic  strain 
and  the  vivacity  of  the  Gallo-Roman?  Whatever  the 
source  of  this  trait,  it  is  a  phenomenon  of  great  account 
in  French  art,  a  phase  of  the  esprit  gaulois,  which  was 
anterior  to  the  influence  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  and 
was  to  modify  and  survive  it. 

•  ••••••• 

The  practice  of  painting,  in  France,  would  ap- 
pear to  have  developed  under  similar  conditions  of  a  few 
master-artists  establishing  canons  of  form  and  com- 
position to  be  followed  by  their  numerous  assistants; 
an  atelier  system  such  as  characterized  also  the  flourish- 
ing periods  of  Japanese  art.  The  earliest  French  paint- 
ers were  the  miniaturists  and  illuminators,  examples  of 
whose  work  can  be  studied  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale.  They  were  produced  for  the  service  of  the 
ritual  and  as  treasures  for  royalty  and  the  nobility. 
The  panel  picture,  on  the  other  hand,  was  intended  for 
popular  edification,  even  as  the  early  mystery  and 
miracle  plays  to  which  they  are  closely  akin  both  in 
motive  and  style.  Their  appeal  is  couched  in  the 
vernacular,  reaching  the  intelligence  and  emotion  of  the 
people  by  directly  natural  means.  As  to  the  quality 
of  their  naturalism  M.  Viollet-le-Duc  contends  that  "in 
the  drawing  of  the  form,  in  correct  observation  of  move- 
ments, in  composition  and  in  expression  the  French 
artists  both  in  sculpture  and  painting  cast  off  the  tram- 
mels of  conventionalism  long  before  the  Italians  did. 
The  paintings  and  vignettes  which  the  thirteenth  cen- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

tury  has  bequeathed  to  us  are  a  proof  of  the  fact ;  and 
fifty  years  previous  to  Giotto  we  had  among  us  paint- 
ers who  had  already  realized  the  progress  ascribed  to  the 
pupil  of  Cimabue.  From  the  twelfth  century  to  the 
fifteenth  drawing  becomes  modified.  Fettered  at  first 
by  the  traditions  of  Byzantine  art,  it  begins  by  shak- 
ing off  those  rules  of  a  particular  school.  Without 
abandoning  style  it  looks  for  principles  derived  from  the 
observation  of  nature.  The  study  of  gesture  soon  at- 
tains to  a  rare  delicacy  and  then  comes  a  search  after 
expression.  As  early  as  the  second  half  of  the 
thirteenth  century  we  recognize  striking  efforts  of  com- 
position; the  dramatic  idea  finds  place  and  some  of  the 
scenes  exhibit  powerful  energy." 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Viollet-le-Duc,  whose  writings 
on  architecture,  archeology  and  criticism  appeared  be- 
tween the  years  1850  and  1875,  was  a  confessed  op- 
ponent of  the  theory  that  French  art  owed  its  greatest 
obligation  to  the  Italian  and  Roman  tradition.  His  fol- 
lowers went  so  far  as  to  sweep  the  latter  entirely  out  of 
consideration.  He,  however,  was  saner  in  his  views; 
recognizing  the  debt  to  the  Renaissance  and  thence  to  the 
Romans,  but  maintaining  that  what  was  intrinsically 
valuable  in  the  art  of  his  country,  in  every  period,  was 
traceable  to  enduring  traits  inherent  in  the  racial 
amalgam  of  the  French  people,  and  that,  even  when  they 
borrowed,  the  French  artists  fixed  on  the  result  the  im- 
press of  the  French  character. 

*••••••• 

The  Louvre  in  two  of  its  galleries,  and  in  examples, 
scattered  elsewhere,  presents  fairly  sufficient  evidence 

C22] 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

of  the  painting  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries 
and  also  of  the  period  during  which  the  Italian  artists 
were  working  at  Fountainebleau. 

•  ••••••• 

Among  the  paintings  of  the  fourteenth  century  is 
(995)  The  Last  Communion  and  Martyrdom  of  St. 
Denis;  the  patron  Saint  of  Old  Paris,  the  first  preacher 
of  Christianity  in  that  city,  who  suffered  for  the  Faith 
in  the  year  270.  Legend  relates  that  after  his  decapita- 
tion on  the  Hill  of  Montmartre,  he  walked,  bearing  his 
head  in  his  hand,  to  a  spot  two  miles  away  where  a  pious 
lady  buried  him.  Later  the  body  was  removed  to  the 
Abbey  of  St.  Denis,  which  became  the  last  resting-place 
of  the  kings  of  France.  The  composition  involves  a 
series  of  incidents,  represented  against  a  gold  back- 
ground. In  the  center  Christ  hangs  upon  the  Cross, 
while  the  Holy  Father  stretches  out  his  hands  above 
Him.  At  the  left,  Christ,  attended  by  a  kneeling  angel, 
administers  the  Wafer  and  Chalice  to  the  saint,  whose 
head  shows  through  the  bars  of  a  window  at  the  foot 
of  a  red  brick  tower.  On  the  right,  the  saint,  in  a  blue 
cope  embroidered  with  gold,  kneels  at  the  block,  while 
the  executioner  raises  his  ax.  The  body  and  head  of 
another  ecclesiastic  lie  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  while  a 
third  awaits  his  turn  of  death.  In  the  middle  distance 
stands  a  group  of  spectators.  The  neck  of  the  Saint 
is  already  half  severed  and  blood  flows  profusely  from 
the  breast  and  the  feet  of  Christ.  While  these  details 
are  sufficiently  horrible,  the  limbs  of  the  executioner  are 
lithe  and  graceful,  and  the  carnations  of  the  flesh-tints 
throughout  very  tenderly  painted.  In  fact,  the  picture 


shows  the  evidence  of  being  an  enlarged  miniature.  It 
is  attributed  to  Jean  Malouel  and  Henri  Bellechose. 

Also  projected  on  a  gold  background  are  (996) 
Christ  Dead  and  (997)  The  Entombment.  The  for- 
mer shows  the  nude  body  of  the  Christ,  crowned  with 
thorns  and  bleeding,  upheld  in  the  arms  of  The  Father. 
He  is  robed  in  blue,  as  also  is  the  Virgin  while  St.  John, 
who  stands  beside  her,  wears  a  red  mantle.  At  the  left 
are  five  child-angels.  The  panel  is  circular  and  again 
suggests  an  enlarged  miniature.  The  scale  is  un- 
fortunate in  view  of  the  shape,  for  the  composition  ap- 
pears unduly  contracted,  the  result  being  a  lack  of  big- 
ness in  the  general  effect.  On  the  other  hand,  in  The 
Entombment  there  is  a  marked  increase  of  power  in  the 
treatment  of  the  spaces  and  planes.  The  foreground  is 
occupied  by  three  old  men,  bearing  the  sacred  body, 
while  in  the  middle  distance  appears  the  Virgin,  ac- 
companied by  Mary  Magdalene  and  Mary  Salome,  be- 
hind whom  stands  St.  John.  At  the  left  the  scene  is 
being  witnessed  by  an  abbot. 

That  the  use  of  the  plain  gold  background — a  sur- 
vival of  the  miniature,  derived  from  Byzantine  tradition 
— continued  into  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century 
may  be  learned  from  a  rendering  of  the  popular  theme 
of  St.  George.  It  is  a  multiple  picture,  containing 
various  incidents.  Here,  the  saint  is  in  the  act  of  slay- 
ing the  dragon ;  there,  is  being  dragged  to  execution  at 
the  heels  of  a  mule;  elsewhere  lies  the  dead  body,  its 
severed  head  being  crowned  with  glory,  while  soldiers, 
whose  lances  form  a  hedge  as  in  Velasquez'  Surrender 
of  Breda,  and  the  executioners  prostrate  themselves  or 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

lift  up  their  hands  in  awe  at  the  apparition  of  the  saint, 
kneeling  in  the  sky. 

In  a  fourth  example,  (941)  The  Scourging  of  Christ, 
the  flat  gold  background  yields  to  an  architectural  set- 
ting. It  represents  Gothic  arcades  in  the  pointed  style, 
under  which  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  stand,  at  the  left 
and  right  of  a  central  canopy.  Here,  bound  to  a  pillar, 
is  the  Christ,  His  body  splashed  with  blood  from  the 
wounds  inflicted  by  birches  and  thongs,  wielded  by  two 
executioners.  The  action  and  expression  are  more  vig- 
orous than  in  the  preceding  examples  and  the  modeling 
of  the  figures  more  angular.  The  painting  has  more 
affinity  with  the  sculpture  of  the  period  than  with 
miniatures. 

There  is  an  interesting  analogy  between  the  multiple 
pictures  and  the  stage  settings  and  performances  of  the 
mystery  and  miracle  plays  of  the  period.  It  was  cus- 
tomary to  surround  the  back  of  the  stage  with  enclosures 
variously  styled  estals,  mansions,  lieux.  These  repre- 
sented the  different  localities,  or  as  we  should  say,  scenes, 
involved  in  the  action  of  the  drama,  and  were  occupied 
by  the  groups  of  actors  connected  with  each  incident. 
There  exists  a  title  page  of  a  lost  "Mystery  of  St.  Apol- 
lonia."  The  artist,  no  other  than  the  famous  Jehan 
Foucquet,  has  represented  on  the  stage  the  torturing 
of  the  saint  under  circumstances  of  gross  violence,  cor- 
responding to  the  horror  of  detail  that  characterizes  the 
pictures  of  the  period.  Meanwhile,  raised  in  the  rear 
is  a  series  of  canopied  stalls ;  the  right  hand  one  occupied 
by  the  Prince  of  Evil,  standing  above  the  open  dragon's 
mouth  of  Hell;  the  left  representing  Heaven,  where 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

the  Virgin  sits  surrounded  by  Saints.  In  another  box 
is  a  vacant  chair  from  which  the  Emperor  Decius  has 
descended  to  superintend  the  torture.  He  will  probably 
make  his  exit  through  the  dragon's  mouth,  while  the 
holy  maid  will  be  escorted  up  the  flight  of  steps  that 
leads  to  the  mansion  of  the  Virgin.  Thus  the  locality 
became  for  the  time  being  the  seat  of  the  incident.  The 
practice  grew  until  the  mansions  were  differentiated  by 
architectural  fixtures  and  other  details,  suggestive  of  the 
particular  locality.  So  by  degrees  came  into  use  that 
peculiar  feature  of  the  early  French  Renaissance  stage, 
known  as  le  Decor  Simultane,  which  presented  a  grouped 
arrangement  of  all  the  places  to  which  the  author's 
fancy  transported  the  action  of  the  play.  Thus  it  would 
appear  that  in  this  particular  the  drama  and  painting 
influenced  each  other  reciprocally. 

The  pictures,  so  far  considered,  while  they  represent 
the  incident  dramatically,  with  fairly  natural  action  and 
often  striking  expression,  are  in  composition  confused 
and  agitated.  They  lack  the  dignity  and  force  of  static 
quality.  It  is  in  this  respect  that  the  work  of  the 
end  of  the  fifteenth  century  shows  a  great  advance. 
Compare,  for  example,  (998)  The  Deposition  (p.  20). 
How  well  ordered  is  the  composition!  Its  geometric 
basis  is  a  little  obvious,  but  the  rigidity  and  formality 
are  assuaged  by  the  suppleness  and  naturalness  of  the 
forms.  So  evident  a  love  of  truth  has  inspired  the 
artist's  observation.  Nor  less  interesting  in  its  naive  sin- 
cerity, is  the  way  in  which  the  truth  is  brought  home  to 
the  actual  life  of  the  Parisians  of  the  day.  The  Cross 

C26] 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

is  set  up  outside  their  own  city.  In  the  distance  ex- 
tends a  view,  lovely  in  its  detail,  of  the  Abbey  of  St. 
Germain-des-Pres  (then  truly  of  the  meadows)  with 
the  Seine  beyond,  washing  the  base  of  the  Louvre  of 
Philippe  Augustus,  over  the  towers  of  which  shows  the 
summit  of  Montmartre.  These  open  spaces  and  that  of 
the  sky  happily  balance  the  foreground  group,  the  order- 
ing of  which  is  accompanied  by  studied  moderation  in 
the  gestures  and  expression  of  the  figures.  There  are 
no  ghastly  evidences  of  blood ;  the  tibia  and  skull  simply 
remind  us  that  the  place  is  Golgotha;  all  the  pathos  of 
the  scene  is  conveyed  by  the  pitifully  helpless  body  of 
Christ  and  the  silent  anguish  that  characterizes  each  in- 
dividual of  the  group.  We  may  be  conscious  of  a  cer- 
tain formal  affectation  in  the  weeping  woman  who 
kneels  between  the  Virgin  and  the  abbot  Guillaume, 
prior  of  St.  Germain;  but  the  respective  expressions  of 
these  two  are  admirable;  so,  too,  are  the  agony  and 
adoration  of  the  young  St.  John,  the  grave  solicitude 
of  the  venerable  Joseph  of  Arimathea;  the  Magdalen's 
humble  desolation,  and  the  woeful  amazement  of  the 
seated  woman  at  the  left.  She  is  robed  in  slaty  blue, 
the  Virgin  in  blue  of  -a  brighter  tone,  the  woman  beside 
the  latter  being  in  black  with  a  green  veil,  while  the 
abbot's  cope  is  of  rose-colored  brocade.  St.  John's 
cloak  is  old  rose  over  a  crimson  tunic.  Joseph's  Oriental 
costume  consists  of  a  brown  turban  and  richly  embroid- 
ered garberdine  above  a  green  robe,  while  the  Magdalen 
wears  a  white  head-cloth  and  robe,  the  latter  partly  cov- 
ered with  a  pale  rose  mantle.  The  colors,  exceedingly 
beautiful,  are  illumined  with  a  pure,  out-of-doors  light. 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

The  gem,  however,  of  these  primitive  religious  pic- 
tures in  the  Louvre  is  1001  bts  a  Pietd  of  the  School  of 
Avignon  (p.  29).  It  will  be  recalled  that  through  the 
intrigues  of  Philip  the  Fair  this  Proven9al  city  became 
in  1309  the  domicile  of  the  Popes;  this  "second  Babylon- 
ish Captivity,"  as  it  has  been  called,  lasting  until  1376. 
The  palace  remained  in  papal  possession  until  1791, 
when  it  was  annexed  by  France.  Until  quite  recent 
years  the  castellated  building  was  used  as  a  barracks 
and  coats  of  whitewash  covered  the  mural  decorations 
which  have  been  lately  revealed.  Some  of  them,  which 
are  religious  in  subject,  are  attributed  to  Italian  fol- 
lowers of  Giotto,  notably  to  Simone  Memmi.  But  the 
latest  restoration  reveals  another  interior,  decorated 
with  secular  subjects  of  hunting  and  fishing.  In  these 
a  few  figures  are  sprinkled  against  a  background  of 
grassy  lawns  and  dense  foliage,  which  is  executed  with 
delicate  precision,  forming  an  exquisite  arabesque  of 
leafage.  All  these  paintings  must  have  cultivated  the 
taste  and  stimulated  the  rivalry  of  local  artists ;  but  are 
not  in  themselves  sufficient  to  explain  the  grand  simplic- 
ity and  severe  exaltation  which  dignify  this  Pietd.  Its 
inspiration  is  rather  to  be  found  in  the  higher  intellec- 
tuality which  characterized  the  cities  of  Provence. 
To  this  day  they  abound  in  magnificent  monuments  of 
the  Roman  occupation,  which  in  the  fifteenth  century 
were  no  doubt  in  better  preservation.  It  is  not  difficult 
to  realize  the  effect  which  the  vast  sweep  of  amphi- 
theaters and  the  silhouette  of  gateways,  walls  and 
aqueducts  must  have  wrought  on  the  imagination  of 

[28] 


fc 

c 

fc 
o 


PRE-REtfAISSANCE  ART 

the  local  artists;  teaching  them  to  see  things   more 
architectonically,  simply  and  grandly. 

Comparing  this  picture  with  The  Deposition,  one 
notes  the  greater  abstraction  of  the  former.  The  back- 
ground is  gold,  surrounded  by  a  text  and  border, 
fashioned  in  diaper;  nor  is  there  so  natural  an  indi- 
vidualization  of  the  figures,  if  we  except  the  wonder- 
fully direct  characterization  of  the  priest.  But  for  what 
the  Pietd  loses  in  naturalness  and  detailed  observation  it 
more  than  atones  in  the  intensity  of  its  abstract  ap- 
peal;  moreover,  in  the  majestic  simplicity  of  its  coordina- 
tion, so  calculated  as  to  give  the  exactly  appropriate  de- 
gree of  emphasis  to  each  of  the  parts.  The  eye  is 
spellbound  by  the  gesture  of  the  Saviour's  body ;  at  first, 
it  may  be,  painfully.  But  soon  the  grace  and  dignity 
of  its  arc  of  direction,  so  tenderly  white  against  the 
black,  gold-bordered  mantle  of  the  Virgin,  wins  one's 
sympathy.  The  obtrusion  of  the  form  yields  to  a 
pathetic  insistence;  its  curve  has  the  supple  limpness 
of  a  wilting  flower-stem,  until  it  reaches  the  strain  of 
the  flesh  over  the  ribs  and  the  emphatic  angle  of  the  arm, 
which  concentrate  attention  on  the  face  with  its  eyes 
closed  and  lips  apart  in  an  expression  of  noble  suffering. 
Toward  it  is  inclined  the  head  of  the  Virgin,  thereby 
concentrating  the  prominence  given  to  her  raised  and 
isolated  position.  The  face  is  not  that  of  a  Mother;  it 
is  the  Mother's,  in  its  pure  and  noble  abstraction. 
Scarcely  less  noble  in  its  abstract,  reverential  tenderness 
is  the  expression  of  St.  John,  as  he  removes  the  crown 
of  thorns  from  the  illumined  head.  His  robe  is  also 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

black,  bordered  with  gold  and  partly  concealed  by  a 
brown  cloak,  while  the  Magdalen,  as  she  holds  a  yellow 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  is  draped  in  old  dull  crimson. 
And  not  less  admirable  than  the  monumental  reserve  of 
the  color-scheme  are  the  amplitude  of  the  masses  of  the 
drapery  and  the  large  simplicity  with  which  the  planes 
are  treated.  There  is  nothing  finer  in  Zurbaran's  ren- 
dering of  the  white  habits  of  the  Carthusian  monks  than 
the  effective  handling  here  of  the  priest's  surplice. 

This  Pietd  fitly  summarizes  in  pictorial  form  the 
noblest  aspect  of  the  medieval  civilization  that  was  even 
then  in  process  of  being  superseded  by  the  modern.  So 
far  as  technique  is  concerned  its  unknown  painter  had 
attained  in  his  art  the  mastery  of  architectonics  that  the 
sculptors  and  more  particularly  the  architects  had 
achieved  in  theirs.  Emotional  fervor  is  here  tempered 
to  a  logical  restraint  and  intellectualized.  Intensity  of 
conviction  and  of  personal  sensation  are  elevated  to  im- 
personal, abstract  expression ;  nature  has  been  noted  and 
rendered,  but  sublimated  with  a  universal  suggestion. 
Consequently,  this  primitive  work,  purged  from  the 
formalism  of  the  Byzantine  and  the  affectation  and  un- 
due naturalism  of  the  Gothic  and  not  yet  tainted  with 
the  sophistical  superior  knowledge  and  mundane  quality 
of  the  Italian  invasion,  appeals  to  the  higher  conscious- 
ness and  purest  imagination  of  the  modern  mind.  For 
the  latter,  wearied  with  much  learning  and  with  a  pro- 
longed pursuit  of  naturalistic  verisimilitudes,  is  seek- 
ing to  recover  more  abstract  principles  and  an  attitude 
of  approach  to  nature  which  views  it  in  relation  to  the 
universal. 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

Somewhat  corresponding  to  the  development  of 
religious  painting  before  the  French  Renaissance  is  that 
of  portraiture.  It  is  distinguished  by  a  resolute  regard 
for  nature.  The  painters  represented  the  kings  and 
nobles  in  whose  employ  they  served  without  any  attempt 
to  idealize,  registering  conscientiously  the  impressions 
of  the  eye  and  paying  careful  attention  to  details  of  the 
costume.  Accordingly,  even  the  most  indifferent  ones 
have  a  documentary  value,  and  one  can  study  to-day 
with  an  assurance  of  their  veritableness  the  counte- 
nances, often  forbidding,  of  some  of  the  chief  characters 
in  the  tangled  drama  of  the  times.  These  portraits, 
in  fact,  are  more  illuminative  of  history  than  much  read- 
ing of  books. 

The  earliest  portraits  in  the  Louvre  belong  to  the 
fifteenth  century.  Note,  for  example,  a  pair  repre- 
senting, respectively,  Pierre  II,  Duke  of  Bourbon,  Sire 
of  Beaujeu  and  his  wife  Anne,  daughter  of  Louis  XI. 
In  each  6ase  the  figure  is  kneeling,  three  quarters  pro- 
file; the  husband  in  front  of  St.  Peter  who  carries  the 
keys;  the  lady  facing  St.  John,  who  bears  his  emblem, 
a  pyx  from  which  a  dragon  springs.  The  figures  are 
disposed  in  a  corridor,  through  an  opening  of  which 
appears  a  landscape.  These  portraits  are  assigned  to 
the  Burgundian  school  and  exhibit  a  Flemish  feeling 
in  the  treatment  of  the  charming  landscapes  and  the 
rich  fabrics  of  the  costumes,  though  inferior  in  the 
flesh  parts,  which  are  flabby  and  rather  expressionless. 
Also  belonging  to  the  Burgundian  school  is  a  portrait 
of  Philippe  Le  Bon,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  wearing  the 
Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  which  he  had  instituted  in 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

1430.  Formerly  attributed  to  one  of  the  Bellini,  but 
now  recognized  as  the  work  of  some  French  painter  of 
the  early  fifteenth  century  is  a  group-portrait  of  Jean 
Juvenal  des  Ursins,  president  of  the  Parliament,  and 
his  wife  and  eleven  children.  In  this  picture,  too, 
the  figures  are  kneeling,  the  father  in  advance  and  the 
wife  and  children  strung  out  behind  him,  while  under- 
neath each  is  an  inscription  giving  the  name  and  title. 
The  background  represents  a  chapel  divided  into  three 
parts,  across  the  front  of  which  is  stretched  to  half  the 
height,  a  cloth  of  gold  dossal  drapery.  Except  in  a 
documentary  sense,  as  a  record  of  costumes  and  inscrip- 
tions and  as  an  example  of  workshop  methods,  follow- 
ing the  canons  but  uninspired  by  the  artist,  this  picture 
has  no  interest.  One  cannot  even  accept  it  as  evidence 
of  portraiture,  for  the  same  physiognomy  is  repeated 
in  all  the  heads. 

On  the  contrary  it  is  a  human  document  that  confronts 
us  in  the  diptych  portrait  of  Rene  d'Anjou  and  his 
second  wife,  Jeanne  de  Laval.  Rene,  Duke  of  Anjou, 
Count  of  Provence  and  titular  King  ("le  bon  roi  Rene") 
of  Naples,  until  dispossessed  by  Alfonso  of  Aragon  in 
1442,  was  himself  a  painter  as  well  as  a  patron  of  art 
and  literature.  The  heads  and  busts  are  shown  in  pro- 
file; the  king's  having  an  expression  of  noble  resigna- 
tion, while  his  Queen's  is  a  trifle  sentimental  in  its  sad 
sweetness.  The  execution  is  studiously  elaborated  and 
delicately  truthful  in  detail.  These  portraits  are  attrib- 
uted to  Nicolas  Froment  of  Avignon,  who  was  also 
a  painter  of  still-life  and  landscape. 

The  finest  example,  however,  of  the  portraiture  of  the 

[32] 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

period  is  shown  in  the  almost  profile  bust,  Portrait  of 
a  Woman,  painted  by  an  unknown  artist  at  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century.  The  subject  is  a  lady  of  circum- 
stance. She  wears  a  red  damask  robe,  fur-trimmed  and 
cut  square  at  the  neck,  revealing  a  blue  silk  guimpe. 
Over  the  latter  lies  a  dainty,  jeweled  necklace,  while 
suspended  by  a  chain  over  her  bosom  is  a  handsome 
jewel,  in  the  center  of  which  appears  the  figure  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist.  The  hair  is  drawn  back  off  the  high 
forehead  and  confined  in  a  quilled  cap,  over  which  shows 
the  edge  of  a  red  skull  cap,  beneath  a  black  hood,  edged 
with  pearls.  The  head  is  placed  against  a  background 
sown  with  pansies  and  forget-me-nots,  which  add  mean- 
ing to  the  inscription  upon  a  scroll  held  between  the 
lady's  thumb  and  forefinger :  "De  quoilque  non  vede  yo 
my  recorded  "I  remember  those  whom  I  do  not  see." 
Any  suspicion  of  sentimentalism  is  banished  by  the  ex- 
pression of  the  face,  which  has  a  large  strong  nose  and 
firmly  set  mouth.  It  is  a  face  full  of  character,  calm 
and  purposeful,  yet  tender  and  constant;  that  of  a 
chatelaine  who  could  ably  administer  her  husband's  af- 
fairs in  his  absence. 

The  dominant  figure  of  this  transition  period  is  Jean 
Foucquet  who  was  born  in  Tours  about  1415  and  died 
about  1485.  He  was  painter  in  ordinary  both  to  Charles 
VII  and  Louis  XI.  Some  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in 
Italy,  where  he  seems  to  have  been  chiefly  affected  by 
the  work  of  the  primitive  Tuscans.  Yet  not  in  imitation 
but  in  emulation;  their  example  stimulating  his  own 
habit  of  conscientious  observation  and  directly  simple 

C33] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

rendering.  He  made  his  mark  alike  in  panel  pictures 
and  in  miniatures.  Forty  of  the  latter,  illustrating  a 
Book  of  Hours  for  Etienne  Chevalier  are  preserved  at 
Chantilly.  He  is  represented  in  the  Louvre  by  two 
portraits  respectively  of  Charles  VII  and  of  the  Juvenal 
des  Ursins  whose  portrait  with  his  family  by  an  unknown 
painter  has  been  already  noticed.  Here,  however, 
Juvenal  is  shown  as  a  man  of  forceful  character,  such 
as  is  to  be  expected  of  one  who  was  Chancellor  of  France 
under  both  Charles  and  Louis.  Half  life-size,  he  is 
represented  standing  in  profile,  in  an  oratory,  clasping 
his  hands  before  a  priedieu,  where  a  book  lies  open  upon 
a  cushion.  His  costume  consists  of  a  dull  red  robe, 
trimmed  with  fur,  fashioned  with  large,  stuffed  sleeves, 
and  confined  at  the  waist  with  a  belt  from  which  a  purse 
depends.  Green  panels  are  fitted  into  the  gilt  pilasters 
of  the  background,  the  capitals  of  which  comprise  the 
coat  of  arms  of  the  Ursin  family,  supported  by  two 
muzzled  bears  rampant.  The  portrait,  as  Gustave 
GefFroy  remarks,  affirms  the  subject's  character,  as  at 
once  a  bourgeois,  a  jurist  and  a  man  of  the  sword. 

Compared  with  the  ampleness  of  the  Chancellor,  the 
Portrait  of  Charles  VII  (p.  34)  presents  a  sad-fea- 
tured, meager  face  that  ill  accords  with  the  inscription 
at  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  panel :  "Le  tres  glorieux 
roy  de  France,  Charles  Septiesme  de  ce  nom"  Im- 
pressed, however,  on  the  face  are  the  traces  both  of  his 
character  and  of  his  experience.  When  his  father, 
Charles  VI,  died  he  was  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  con- 
fronted with  a  divided  country  over  the  greater  part 
of  which  the  English  held  control.  He  is  described 


PORTRAIT  OF  CHARLES  VII  JEAN  FOUCQUET 

LOUVRE 


PRE-RENAISSANCE  ART 

as  being  of  a  delicate  constitution,  a  good  scholar,  timid, 
reserved,  but  addicted  to  indulgence.  It  was  not  until 
some  years  later,  after  the  triumphs  of  Joan  of  Arc, 
that  he  was  crowned  at  Rheims.  When  his  authority 
was  finally  established  he  set  himself  to  reorganize  the 
finances  of  the  country,  at  the  same  time  reducing  the 
power  of  the  feudal  aristocracy  by  employing  as 
ministers  and  captains  of  war  members  of  the  bourgeois 
and  lesser  nobility.  His  end  was  miserable.  Louis,  his 
son,  having  openly  rebelled,  Charles,  in  terror  of  being 
poisoned,  refused  food  and  ended  his  exhausted  life 
by  starvation.  The  good  and  the  bad,  the  promise  and 
the  failure  of  the  royal  personality  are  marvelously  sug- 
gested in  this  great  human  document,  surely  one  of  the 
most  arresting  portraits  in  the  world. 

Another  superb  example  is  that  of  Etienne  Chevalier 
with  St.  Stephen  in  the  Berlin  Museum.  The  Secretary 
of  Charles  VII  stands  with  hands  folded  as  in  prayer 
beside  the  Saint,  who  holds  a  book  with  a  stone  upon 
it  in  his  left  hand,  while  his  right  rests  on  the  shoulder 
of  his  namesake.  The  youthful  face  of  the  proto- 
martyr,  calm  and  strong,  is  one  of  singular  purity, 
while  in  that  of  the  older  man  is  embedded  the  sugges- 
tion of  resolute  directness,  probity  and  kindly  devotion. 
The  figures  are  shown  about  half  length  in  a  corridor 
of  Renaissance  architecture,  and  again  the  artist  betrays 
his  favorite  palette  of  red,  green  and  gold-embroidered 
blue. 

It  appears  in  the  strangely  alluring  Virgin  and  Child 
of  the  Antwerp  Museum.  Red  and  blue  nude  child- 
angels  form  a  clustering  background  to  the  tasseled, 

C35] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

jeweled  throne  on  which  Madonna  sits.  An  ermine 
cloak  depends  from  her  shoulders  and  is  held  across  her 
lap  with  one  hand  for  the  nude  Babe  to  sit  on.  The 
tight  fitting  bodice  of  her  green  robe  is  unlaced,  releasing 
the  left  breast.  It  is  a  sphere  of  ivory,  wax-white  like 
the  neck  and  the  globe  of  the  head.  For  the  eyelids 
are  lowered  and  the  hair  brushed  off  the  high  forehead, 
so  that  the  head  beneath  the  large  jeweled  crown  seems 
as  if  bald.  Immobile  as  marble  and  as  cold  are  the 
form  and  its  expression;  yet  instinct  with  latent  co- 
quetry, that  exhales  its  allurement  as  naturally  and  as 
purely  as  a  flower  its  fragrance.  And  with  a  similar 
detachment  from  passion  one  yields  to  the  seduction. 
For  the  suggestion  and  the  charm  are  those  of  femininity 
in  the  abstract.  Agnes  Sorel,  the  king's  mistress,  is 
known  to  have  been  the  model;  but  the  representation 
is  cleansed  of  personality. 

Foucquet's  masterpiece,  indeed,  offers  a  strangely  in- 
teresting commentary  on  the  mental  attitude  of  its  time 
toward  religion  and  the  sex-relations.  Moreover,  it  is 
the  first  indication  in  painting  of  the  idea  of  "the 
eternal  feminine,"  as  interpreted  by  the  finest  qualities 
of  the  esprit  gaulois.  For  the  latter's  choicest  expres- 
sion of  the  eternal  feminine  involves  nothing  of 
coarseness  or  seductiveness  but  represents,  as  embodied 
in  the  idea  of  woman,  the  essence  of  the  allure  and 
beauty  of  life.  It  has  in  it  not  a  little  of  Attic  naivete 
and  simplicity.  It  is  a  clue  and  the  chief  one,  to  some 
of  the  most  characteristic  phases  of  French  art. 


C36] 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   EARLY   RENAISSANCE 

IT  was  the  good  fortune  of  France  to  receive  the 
wine  of  Italian  culture  when  she  was  ready  to  as- 
similate its  heady  strength;  when,  in  fact,  she  was 
already  a  strong  and  growing  nation  with  a  vig- 
orous culture  all  her  own.  Other  nations  were  less 
lucky,  at  least  as  far  as  painting  is  concerned./  England 
at  this  period  was  growing  lustily,  but  her  background 
of  culture  was  only  meager.  Consequently,  when  the 
Renaissance  reached  her,  mainly  filtered  through  the 
French,  it  found  a  Shakespeare  to  fertilize  but  no  paint- 
ing. Nearly  two  hundred  years  had  to  elapse  before 
there  were  English  painters  ready  for  the  Italian  in- 
fluence, by  which  time  the  adoption  of  the  latter  was 
largely  an  affectation.  The  same  is  true  of  Germany, 
after  a  still  longer  period  of  waiting.  The  great  tradi- 
tion of  Diirer  and  Holbein  was  checked  by  the  Reforma- 
tion; and,  when  the  Renaissance  reached  her,  it  found 
no  native  culture  to  ferment.  In  lieu  of  it  was  a  tradi- 
tion of  independence  and  profound  religious  feeling 
and  these  it  fertilized.  Germany  enriched  the  world 
with  ideas  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  but  at  the  ex- 
pense of  art.  Only  little  Holland  effected  for  a  time 
the  union  of  the  three.  As  for  Italy — sooner  or  later 
she  fructified  the  world ;  but  her  own  harvest  of  culture 

C37] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

was  raised  upon  a  soil,  already  impoverished  and  continu- 
ally growing  poorer.  The  dawn  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury broke  upon  the  beginning  of  her  highest  splendor ; 
the  close  of  the  century  saw  it  set.  Twilight  passed 
into  a  night,  that  until  the  nineteenth  century  remained 
unbroken.  Meanwhile  France,  even  before  the  collapse 
of  Italian  culture,  began  to  be  the  arbiter  and  dispenser 
of  art  to  the  modern  world  and  has  maintained  the 
role  to  the  present  day. 

To  what  must  the  phenomenon  be  attributed? 
Firstly,  to  the  fact  already  mentioned  that  at  the  time  of 
her  contact  with  Italian  culture  France  already  had  a 
glorious  past  in  architecture  and  sculpture  and  was 
growing  in  nationality,  with  a  living  literature  and  art  of 
painting  that  were  racy  of  the  French  character.  To 
her  the  Renaissance  did  not  come  as  a  new  birth,  but  as  a 
reinforcement  and  refinement  of  a  vigorous  life. 
Secondly,  she  demonstrated  again  and  not  for  the  last 
time,  her  racial  capacity  of  assimilation.  Even  as  she 
had  borrowed  from  Celtic  or  German  lore  and  fashioned 
what  she  took  into  literature  distinguishably  French, 
and  had  cast  in  a  like  national  mold  her  borrowings 
from  Flemish  and  German  painting,  and  earlier  from 
Byzantine  art;  so  now,  while  she  reveled  in  the 
Renaissance  banquet,  she  digested  what  she  took  and 
made  it  a  part  of  herself.  But  a  third  reason  is  to 
be  found  in  that  element  of  poise  in  the  esprit  gaulois; 
an  attitude  of  philosophic  gaiety,  that  while  it  can  be 
serious,  escapes  the  barrenness  of  too  exclusive  serious- 
ness. Accordingly,  in  France  at  this  period  there  was 
no  unbridgable  gap  between  religion  and  art.  Catholics 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

and  Reformers  alike  could  be  humanists,  devoted  to 
liberal  culture,  which  did  not,  as  in  Italy,  tend  to 
paganism.  Calvin  himself  was  a  prime  absorber  of 
humanism,  deriving  from  it  a  lucidity,  precision,  grace 
and  pregnancy  of  style  that  reacted  most  invigoratingly 
on  the  thought  and  literature  of  the  period.  Poise  was 
displayed  in  the  critical  and  practical  spirit  that  charac- 
terized the  acceptance  of  the  new  culture.  Generally 
speaking,  it  was  one  of  unqualified  joy  in  the  discovery, 
of  restraint  and  discretion  in  the  use  of  it.  This 
affected  to  some  extent  the  choice  of  subject  matter; 
but  still  more  the  method  of  handling  it.  On  the  one 
hand,  the  inflated  style  of  the  "Rhetoriqueurs,"  which 
had  crept  into  French  writing  toward  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  was  abandoned  for  simple  and  direct 
expression;  on  the  other,  the  vocabulary  and  structure 
of  the  language  became  enriched,  more  flexible  and 
more  subtle  by  contact  with  Italian  and  Classic  litera- 
ture. This  was  ultimately  the  effect  that  the  Italian 
Renaissance  exerted  upon  French  painting. 

The  first  printing  press  was  set  up  in  Paris  in  1470, 
nine  years  before  the  birth  of  the  great  printer  and 
editor,  Jean  Grolier.  By  the  end  of  the  century,  presses 
had  been  established  in  eighteen  other  cities,  scattered 
over  the  country  from  Caen  in  the  North  to  the  Southern 
town  of  Perpignan.  The  appetite  for  the  new  learning 
and  the  preparedness  for  it  were,  in  fact,  nation-wide. 
Hence  it  resulted  that,  when  France  obtained  a  hold 
on  humanistic  culture,  she  leapt  at  once  into  the  posi- 
tion of  being  the  European  leader  of  scholarship.  The 
University  of  Paris  became  the  center  of  the  movement, 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

.chiefly  through  the  transcending  ability  of  Gillaume 
Bude,  better  known  by  his  Latinized  name,  Budseus. 
As  librarian  to  Francis  I,  he  formed  a  notable  collection 
of  Greek  manuscripts  and  was  the  first  to  interpret  the 
Greek  texts  on  scientific  and  scholarly  lines.  He  wrote 
as  ably  in  the  French  tongue  as  in  Greek  and  Latin; 
and  was  hailed  by  Calvin  as  "the  foremost  glory  and 
support  of  literature,  by  whose  service  our  France  claims 
for  herself  to-day  the  palm  of  erudition."  Closely  as- 
sociated with  his  influence  was  that  of  the  Hollander, 
Erasmus,  who  developed  in  Paris  his  scholarly  genius, 
and  then  through  his  sojourn  in  Germany  and  England 
became  one  of  the  chief  pioneers  in  spreading  enlighten- 
ment throughout  Europe.  Other  great  names  among 
the  French  scholars  of  the  period  were  the  Scaligers 
and  the  Etiennes. 

It  was  characteristic  of  French  scholarship  that  much 
of  it  was  expended  in  spreading  the  knowledge  of  the 
Classics  through  translations  in  the  vulgar  tongue;  the 
latter  becoming  matured,  extended  and  subtilized  in  the 
process.  The  greatest  of  the  contributors  to  this  dif- 
fusion of  knowledge  was  Jacques  Amyot  (1513-1593), 
whose  chief  work  was  the  translation  of  "Plutarch's 
Lives."  This  book,  as  much  through  the  quality  of 
Amyot's  style  as  through  its  own  intrinsic  merits,  im- 
mediately acquired  a  popularity  in  France,  which  spread 
to  other  countries;  the  French  form,  rather  than  the 
original  Greek,  becoming  the  basis  of  the  various  trans- 
lations into  other  tongues.  How  it  inspired  Shakespeare 
is  a  matter  of  common  knowledge,  while  its  influence 
some  two  hundred  years  later  on  the  growth  of  French 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

thought  which  led  to  the  Revolution  is  equally  indis- 
putable. The  secret  of  its  style  is  explained  in  the 
author's  own  advice — "Take  heed  and  find  the  words 
that  are  fittest  to  signify  the  thing  of  which  we  mean 
to  speak.  Choose  words  which  seem  to  be  the  pleas- 
antest,  which  sound  best  in  our  ears,  which  are  cus- 
tomary in  the  mouths  of  good  talkers,  which  are  honest 
natives  and  no  foreigners."  It  is  not  difficult  to  see 
how  the  same  principle  can  be  applied  to  the  technique 
of  painting;  as  indeed  it  was  by  the  original,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  imitative,  artists  of  the  French  Renais- 
sance. 

It  is  interesting  to  recall  that  during  this  century  of 
literary  activity,  the  French  began  to  imitate  the  colonial 
activities  of  the  Spaniards.  Jacque  Cartier,  a  native 
of  St.  Malo,  born  within  a  year  of  Columbus's  discovery 
of  America,  made  three  voyages  to  Canada,  respectively 
in  1534,  1535  and  1541 ;  while  simultaneously  with  the 
last  year  De  Soto  was  exploring  Louisiana. 

It  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  the  development 
of  painting  at  this  period  could  keep  pace  with  that  of 
literature ;  for  the  former  had  no  such  agent  in  its  ser- 
vice as  the  printing-press.  Scholars  and  writers  were 
in  the  employ  or  under  the  patronage  of  royalty  or 
nobility;  but  through  the  press  they  spoke  to  the  public 
at  large  and  thereby  were  encouraged  to  speak  as 
Frenchmen.  With  the  painter  or  sculptor  it  was 
necessarily  different.  He  worked  to  please  his  patron, 
and  the  latter's  taste  for  the  most  part  followed  the 
Italianate  fashion,  set  by  Francis  I,  whose  disasters 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

in  Italy  did  not  impair  his  admiration  for  Italian  art. 
He  invited  to  Fontainebleau  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
Andrea  del  Sarto,  II  Rosso,  Primaticcio  and  Niccolo 
dell'  Abbate  and  the  sculptor,  Benvenuto  Cellini.  Of 
these,  Primaticcio  exerted  the  greatest  influence,  since 
his  sojourn  in  France  extended  over  thirty  years.  His 
most  noteworthy  followers  were  Toussaint  du  Breuil 
(1561-1602)  and  Jean  Cousin  ( 1500 ?-1589),  the  latter 
a  man  of  versatile  gifts,  practising  also  as  an  architect, 
sculptor,  miniaturist,  decorator  and  glassworker.  He 
is  represented  in  the  Louvre  by  The  Last  Judgment. 
The  scene  is  medieval  in  its  conception  and  composed 
in  close  resemblance  to  the  elaborate  mystery  plays  of 
the  sixteenth  century;  to  that,  for  example,  given  at 
Valenciennes  in  1547,  of  which  a  drawing  still  exists 
and  is  reproduced  in  Karl  Mantzius'  "History  of 
Theatrical  Art."  The  foreground  in  Cousin's  picture 
is  occupied  by  newly  risen  souls,  some  of  whom  are 
entering  a  cave,  while  others  are  being  dragged  off  to 
Hell,  which,  as  usual,  is  situated  at  the  right  of  the 
scene.  The  clouds  open  overhead,  revealing  Christ, 
standing  upon  the  globe  of  the  earth,  attended  by  the 
Virgin  and  St.  John  and  a  retinue  of  saints.  Mean- 
while the  composition  shows  a  marked  advance  in 
freedom  and  boldness  of  design,  in  knowledge  of 
anatomy  and  foreshortening  and  in  geometrical  per- 
spective. The  picture,  in  its  union  of  old  feeling  and 
new  technical  accomplishment  stands  in  the  same 
category  as  The  Last  Judgment  of  Van  Orley  in  the 

Antwerp  Museum. 

..*••••• 

C42] 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

Meanwhile,  notwithstanding  the  Italian  invasion,  a 
group  of  portrait  painters,  consisting  of  the  Clouets 
and  their  pupils,  preserved  the  characteristics,  if  not 
of  strictly  French,  at  least  of  Northern  painting.  For 
Jean  Clouet,  the  father,  otherwise  called  Jehannet, 
Jhannet  or  Janet,  was  a  native  of  Flanders;  while 
Fran9ois  Clouet,  the  most  distinguished  of  the  three 
sons,  exhibits  a  style  which  suggests  that  he  may  have 
been  a  pupil  of  Holbein.  The  date  of  the  father's  birth 
is  unknown,  but  about  the  year  1475  he  moved  to  France 
and  settled  in  Tours,  where  Fra^ois  was  born  in  1500. 

To  Jean  Clouet  the  Louvre  catalogue  attributes  the 
fine  Portrait  of  Francis  I  (frontispiece).  It  repre- 
sents the  king  about  thirty  years  old,  in  a  pearly  satin 
doublet,  striped  with  black  velvet  and  embroidered  in 
gold,  resting  his  left  hand  on  a  balustrade  covered  with 
green  velvet,  while  an  arras  damasked  in  two  tones  of 
dull  claret  red  appears  in  the  background.  The  very 
dark  brown  hair  is  dressed  in  a  flat  roll  over  the  ears 
while  the  chin  and  cheeks  are  covered  with  the  soft  curly 
growth  of  a  beard  that  has  never  known  a  razor.  The 
expression  of  the  face  is  sly  and  sensuous.  If  one 
compares  the  portrait  with  a  later  one  (1007)  of  the 
same  king,  executed  probably  by  a  pupil  of  the  Clouets, 
the  change  is  significant.  The  face  is  puffier  and 
coarsened,  the  complexion  reddened,  the  expression  that 
of  the  confirmed  sensualist.  The  two  pictures,  as  M. 
Geoffroy  well  says,  exhibit  respectively  the  youth  and 
the  maturity  of  the  satyr.  Clouet 's  portrait  may  also 
be  compared,  this  time  for  technical  interest,  with 
Titian's  Louvre  portrait  (1588),  Francis  I.  The 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

latter,  of  which  many  repetitions  exist,  was  probably 
not  made  from  life;  but  possibly  from  a  medal.  Pic- 
torially,  of  course,  the  Titian  is  finer  than  the  Clouet; 
exhibiting  a  masterful  treatment  of  planes  and  sur- 
faces, as  well  as  a  controlling  knowledge  and  skill  that 
has  swept  all  into  an  ensemble  as  apparently  spontane- 
ous as  it  is  magnificent.  Alongside  of  it  the  Clouet 
is,  no  doubt,  caligraphic  rather  than  painterlike;  in 
which  respect  it  is  interesting  to  compare  it  with  the 
beautiful  portrait  by  Ingres  of  Madame  Riviere 
(p.  109).  Yet  in  its  very  innocence  of  any  brushwork 
bravura,  in  its  close  and  prolonged  analysis  of  values 
and  the  unremitting  integrity  with  which  the  results 
of  observation  have  been  rendered,  there  is  not  only 
an  assurance  of  fidelity  of  portraiture  but  a  stirring 
suggestion  of  virility.  If  one's  temperament  inclines 
to  prefer  the  less  learned  portrait,  I  don't  think  he  need 
feel  ashamed. 

The  same  penetrating  truth  of  characterization  dis- 
tinguishes the  portraits  by  Fra^ois  (also  called 
Jehannet)  Clouet;  while  the  precision  is  associated  with 
increased  fluency  of  brushwork  and  a  more  subtle  har- 
monizing of  the  flesh-tints,  costumes  and  background. 
The  Louvre  possesses  his  full  length  Portrait  of 
Charles  IX,  of  which  a  life-sized  repetition  exists  in 
the  Museum  of  Vienna;  the  latter  bearing  the  inscrip- 
tion "Charles  VI III,  tres  chretien  roy  de  France,  en 
1'age  de  XX  ans,  peint  au  vif  per  Jannet,  1563."  It  is 
supposed  that  both  of  these  pictures  were  sent  to  Vienna 
in  1570,  at  the  time  of  the  young  king's  marriage  to 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian.  This 

[44] 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

portrait  reveals  a  weak  and  vicious  face,  with  the  wary, 
cruel  expression  of  a  ferret.  It  bespeaks  the  charac- 
ter that  two  years  later  (1572)  could  countenance  the 
treachery  and  political  folly  of  the  Massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew.  Admiral  Coligny,  the  most  illustrious 
victim  of  the  devilish  plot  and  his  enemy,  the  Duke  of 
Guise,  and  many  other  men  and  women  who  enacted 
willing  and  unwilling  roles  in  the  drama  of  the  period 
are  among  the  subjects  represented  in  the  Louvre's 
collection  of  historic  portraits. 

They  suggest  a  momentary  glance  at  the  back- 
ground of  events  following  the  death  of  Francis  I 
in  1547.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Henry  II,  who 
had  married  Catherine  de'  Medici.  This  able  and  un- 
scrupulous woman,  trained  in  the  principles  of  Machia- 
velli,  had  ample  scope  for  her  prowess  during  the 
minority  of  her  two  sons,  Francis  II  and  Charles  IX. 
The  former  succeeded  his  father  in  1559  at  the  age  of 
sixteen  and  died  the  following  year,  the  Crown  passing 
to  his  brother,  at  the  time,  a  boy  of  ten.  The  latter 
reigned  for  fourteen  years  and  was  succeeded  by  Cath- 
erine de'  Medici's  third  son,  Henry  III.  The  period 
of  these  three  ignoble  reigns  is  occupied  with  the 
struggle  between  Catholic  and  Huguenot  parties.  For 
the  day  of  philosophic  tolerance  was  past  and  war  was 
carried  on  a  I'outrance  between  the  rival  religionists. 
The  reason  for  the  change  of  feeling  is  to  be  found  in 
the  attitude  of  Francis  I  toward  the  aristocracy. 
Whereas  it  had  been  the  policy  of  the  preceding  kings  to 
subordinate  the  power  of  the  latter  to  the  authority  of 
the  Crown,  Francis  had  courted  popularity  by  lifting  the 

[45] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

aristocracy  up  to  social  equality  with  himself.  It  was 
his  delight  to  pose  as  "the  first  gentleman  of  France." 
The  ultimate  effect  of  this  was  to  precipitate  that  com- 
plete cleavage  between  a  privileged  nobility  and  the 
rest  of  the  nation,  which  after  working  untold  suffering 
and  wrong  was  to  culminate  in  the  Revolution.  Mean- 
while, during  the  minority  of  the  young  kings,  the  more 
powerful  nobles  asserted  their  rights  to  a  share  in  the 
powers  of  the  Regency.  In  the  rivalry  which  ensued 
Catherine  allied  herself  with  the  Catholic  family  of 
Guise  and  thus  the  struggle  became  one  of  politics  as 
well  as  religion.  The  power  of  the  Guise  continued 
until  their  infamy  in  instigating  the  horrors  of  St. 
Bartholomew's  Eve  had  been  avenged  by  the  murder 
of  themselves.  This  was  contrived  by  Henry  III, 
who  himself  paid  the  penalty  the  following  year  ( 1589) , 
when  he  was  assassinated  by  Jacques  Clement,  a  Domin- 
ican friar. 

The  reign  of  this  last  of  the  rulers  of  the  House  of 
Valois  was  the  most  contemptible  in  the  annals  of  the 
French  monarchy.  The  profligacy  of  the  Court,  which 
under  Francis  I  preserved  some  grace  of  gallantry, 
had  been  fomented  by  Catherine  de'  Medici  for  political 
purposes,  until  respect  for  decent  women  disappeared 
and  even  the  charm  of  the  licentious  palled.  Henry 
chose  his  favorites  among  young  men  and  even  had 
the  audacity  to  bestow  places  of  authority  upon  these 
mignons.  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike  were  dis- 
gusted. The  leader  of  the  former  was  now  the  son  of 
Antoine  de  Bourbon,  Henry  of  Navarre,  who  had  been 
drawn  by  the  Queen  dowager  into  a  marriage  with 


DIANA 


SCHOOL  OF  FOXTAINEBLEATJ 

LOUVRE 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

Margaret,  the  dissolute  sister  of  the  king.  To  oppose 
his  pretensions  to  the  succession  the  Catholics  founded 
The  League  to  support  the  rival  claims  of  the  young 
Duke  of  Guise.  On  his  deathbed  the  king  named  his 
brother-in-law  as  successor  but  warned  him  that  none 
but  a  Catholic  could  reign  over  France.  The  forecast 
was  realized.  Although  Henry  defeated  The  League  at 
the  battle  of  Ivry,  he  found  himself  barred  from  Paris. 
Accordingly,  after  an  indecisive  struggle  of  several 
years  he  accepted  Catholicism  and  was  crowned  as 
Henvy  IV,  first  King  of  the  House  of  Bourbon. 
The  discontent  of  the  Protestants  was  allayed  by  his 
issue  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  Having  established  his 
power,  he  obtained  a  divorce  from  Margaret  and  mar- 
ried Marie  de'  Medici,  whom  Rubens  later  commemo- 
rated in  the  series  of  historic  decorations  that  are  now 
in  the  Louvre.  Henry  met  his  death  at  the  hands  of 
the  assassin,  Ravaillac. 

•  •  •••»•* 

By  those  who  wish  to  study  the  painting  of  the  so- 
called  School  of  Fontainebleau  a  visit  must  be  made  to 
the  Chateau,  which  owes  its  most  characteristic  splendor 
to  the  successive  efforts  of  Francis  I,  Henry  II  and 
Henry  IV.  "The  King's  Staircase"  which  leads  to 
the  apartments  of  Francis'  mistress,  the  Duchesse  d' 
Etampes,  is  adorned  with  frescoes,  variously  ascribed 
to  Primaticcio,  II  Rosso  and  Niccolo  Dell'  Abbate. 
In  them  Francis  is  depicted  as  Alexander  the  Great  in 
a  series  of  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  Macedonian  con- 
queror. Francis  also  erected  the  gallery  which  bears 
his  name  and  the  magnificent  Salle  des  Fetes.  He 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

lived  to  complete  the  decoration  of  the  former  with 
mythological  subjects  executed  by  II  Rosso;  but  the 
embellishment  of  the  latter  was  undertaken  by  Henry 
II,  in  honor  of  Diane  de  Poitiers.  His  initial,  linked 
with  that  of  his  mistress,  appears  in  all  directions  amid 
bows,  arrows,  and  crescents,  the  emblems  of  Diana, 
while  the  panels  are  filled  with  eight  large  compositions 
and  fifty  smaller  ones,  embodying  scenes  from 
mythology. 

So  thoroughly  identified  is  Fontainebleau  with  the 
memory  of  Diane  de  Poitiers  that  it  is  something  of  a 
shock  to  the  sense  of  romance  to  recall  that  the  lady 
was  twenty  years  the  senior  of  her  royal  lover;  old 
enough,  in  fact,  to  be  his  mother.  But  Henry  was 
quite  a  passionless  person  and  only  followed  his  father's 
example  in  adopting  a  mistress  because  the  custom 
seemed  to  be  de  rigueur.  And  Diane  herself  played 
rather  the  part  of  a  prudent  directoress,  whose  influence 
on  the  king  was  edifying.  Regarded,  indeed,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  her  contemporaries,  the  position  of 
Diane  was  magnificent  and  divine,  for  her  relations 
with  the  king  represented  to  them  the  perfect  type  of 
Platonism,  at  once  practical  and  sacred.  Du  Bellay 
voiced  this  in  a  poem  in  her  honor — "God  had  made 
you  appear  among  us  like  a  miracle,  that  you  may 
possess  the  soul  of  this  great  King,  whose  faith  is  in- 
violable, and  that  his  affection  through  your  perfection 
may  burn  with  a  holy  flame."  And  he  adds,  "You 
have  won  the  heart  of  all  France." 

This  Platonistic  tendency,  borrowed  from  the  Italians, 
strange  as  it  may  seem  from  the  modern  point  of  view, 


THE  EARLY  RENAISSANCE 

was  in  a  measure  the  expedient  of  women  of  refinement 
to  hold  at  bay  the  coarseness  of  the  men.  Nevertheless, 
it  was  a  symptom  of  decadence  and  held  in  it  the  disease 
of  profligacy  which  followed.  Meanwhile  its  vogue  ex- 
plains the  spirit  which  prompted  and  saw  nothing  incon- 
gruous in  the  sculptor  Goujon's  representation  of  the 
king's  mistress  as  a  nude  Diana,  reclining  upon  a  stag, 
surrounded  by  her  hounds;  a  group  which  originally 
adorned  the  front  of  Diane's  palatial  Chateau  d'Anet. 
It  is  now  in  the  Louvre,  where  its  beauty  can  be  enjoyed 
for  its  intrinsic  charm.  Goujpn  was  the  typical 
sculptor  of  the  French  Renaissance;  the  one  who  most 
happily  enriched  his  Northern  temperament  with  the 
grace  and  fluency  of  the  Italian.  Yet  how  completely 
he  escaped  a  servitude  to  the  Italian  influence  may  be 
seen  by  comparing  this  group  with  the  Nymph  of 
Fontcdnebleau  by  Benvenuto  Cellini,  which  to  some  ex- 
tent must  have  been  Goujon's  model.  The  Cellini,  in 
the  exuberance  of  the  bosom  and  turbulent  pose  of  the 
abdomen,  betrays  the  decadence  of  style  that  the  mis- 
understood example  of  Michelangelo  was  promoting, 
while  the  long  slender  legs  are  more  than  a  little  mean- 
ingless and  the  expression  of  the  face  is  trivial  and 
formal.  Goujon's  Diana,  on  the  contrary,  is  instinct 
with  nature ;  monumental,  it  is  true,  and  sublimated,  but 
still  woman,  a  synthesis  of  the  purity  and  vigor  of 
splendid  womanhood.  She  is  exquisitely  personal; 
nevertheless  aloof.  Indeed  it  is  this  quality  of  human- 
ness,  touched  with  abstraction,  that  seems  to  be  the 
secret  of  its  fascination  to  the  modern  mind. 

A  corresponding  quality  distinguishes  the  painting 

[49] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

(1013)  Diana  (p.  47)  which  is  one  of  the  few  exam- 
ples of  the  School  of  Fontainebleau  comprised  in  the 
Louvre.  The  hair  is  blond,  the  flesh  pale  rosy  cream; 
the  drapery  of  golden  buff  silk ;  the  hanger  of  the  quiver 
a  delicate  blue,  with  dainty  jewels;  the  color  of  the 
greyhound  cream;  the  background,  dull  olive  green 
foliage  and  a  gray  blue,  characteristically  Parisian  sky. 
The  drawing  and  modeling  of  the  young  figure  betrays 
no  learned  assurance,  the  pose  no  artifice.  The  artist 
has  rendered,  with  simple  fidelity,  his  model.  No 
sophistication  intervenes.  The  maiden  bears  the  charm 
of  unconscious  nakedness  rather  than  conscious  nudity ; 
veiled  with  the  naivete  of  her  artless  purity.  The 
painter  doubtless  owed  much  to  Italian  influence,  but 
his  spirit  was  distinguishably  French. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN   KING 

WHEN  Louis  XIII,  a  child  of  nine  years  old, 
was  raised  to  the  throne  in  1610,  the 
country  was  still  torn  asunder  by  Leaguers 
and  Huguenots.  The  leaders  of  both  factions  en- 
croached upon  the  royal  power;  there  was  as  yet  no 
middle  class  strong  enough  to  assert  its  rights  and  the 
masses  of  the  people  were  practically  serfs.  Authority 
existed  nowhere.  Under  the  circumstances,  if  it  were 
to  exist  at  all,  it  must  be  in  the  person  of  the  sovereign. 
Louis  XI  had  realized  this  and  intrigued  successfully 
to  achieve  it.  Under  his  successors,  however,  what  he 
had  won  was  dissipated,  and  at  no  time  was  the  crown 
more  impotent  than  in  the  early  years  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  The  queen  regent,  Marie  de'  Medici,  was  of 
weak  character  and  sought  refuge  from  the  insolence 
of  the  nobility  in  Italian  favorites.  When  she  married 
her  son  at  the  age  of  fourteen  to  Anne  of  Austria,  it 
was  to  introduce  another  feminine  influence  no  less  weak 
and  unprincipled.  There  were  two  queens  at  court  but 
no  king,  for  Louis  from  the  start,  while  not  without 
ability,  lacked  all  capacity  of  concentration  and  per- 
sistence. He  was  as  completely  a  roi  faineant  as  any  of 
the  later  kings  of  the  Carlovingian  dynasty,  and  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

equivalent  of  a  mayor  of  the  palace  appeared  in 
Cardinal  Richelieu. 

From  his  appearance  at  court  in  1619  until  his  death 
in  1642  Richelieu  worked  with  one  end  steadily  in  view 
— the  revival  of  the  policy  of  Louis  XI.  His  own 
ambition  found  its  scope  and  satisfaction  in  converting 
the  monarchy  into  an  absolutism,  which  he  wielded  on 
behalf  of  the  royal  puppet.  The  latter  survived  his 
great  minister  only  one  year,  having  in  the  meantime 
followed  Richelieu's  dying  admonition  to  give  his  con- 
fidence to  Cardinal  Mazarin.  Again,  as  so  often  in 
French  history,  the  new  king  was  a  minor  and  during 
the  life  of  his  minister  Louis  XIV  showed  little  sign  of 
independence.  He  subserved  the  intrigues  of  Anne,  the 
queen  mother,  and  Mazarin  by  marrying  Maria  Luisa, 
the  daughter  of  Philip  IV  of  Spain ;  the  ceremony  being 
conducted  on  the  Isle  of  Pheasants,  in  the  little  fron- 
tier river  of  Bidassoa.  Velasquez  had  charge  of  the 
preparations  and  festivities  and  was  so  exhausted  by  the 
ordeal  that  he  died  a  few  months  later.  By  the  terms 
of  the  marriage  contract  both  Louis  and  his  bride  for- 
swore for  themselves  and  their  heirs  all  pretentions  to 
succeed  to  the  Spanish  crown.  This  agreement,  by  the 
way,  in  1700  on  the  death  of  Charles  II,  the  last  of  the 
Hapsburg  line  of  Spanish  Kings,  Louis  XIV,  then 
in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  found  it  convenient  to 
ignore,  thus  precipitating  the  War  of  the  Spanish  Suc- 
cession. 

Before  he  submitted  to  the  political  exigencies  of 
this  marriage  with  the  Infanta,  the  young  king  had  been 
enamored  of  the  nieces  of  his  cardinal  minister.  He 

C52] 


ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN  KING 

was  now  allowed  to  solace  himself  with  the  charms  of 
Madame  de  la  Valliere.     But  an  end  of  mere  dal- 
liance was  at  hand.     Mazarin  died  during  the  year  which 
succeeded    the    Spanish    marriage;    regretting   chiefly 
that  he  must  be  separated  by  death  from  the  magnificent 
pictures  and  works  of  art,  which  he  had  set  the  fashion 
of  collecting.     When  the  council  met  and  the  secretary 
inquired  of  Louis  to  whom  he  should  present  his  reports 
in  the  future  the  king's  curt  reply  was  Moi.     There  and 
then,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  he  adopted  the  prin- 
ciple, that  he  upheld  for  fifty-five  years,  I'etat  c'est  moi. 
His  first  act  was  to  appoint  Colbert  Minister  of  Finance, 
whose  long  and  faithful  service  put  the  treasury  on  a 
basis  of  certainty  and  affluence,  which  enabled  Louis  to 
satisfy  his  ambition  to  triumph  in  war  and  to  shine  as 
le  Hoi  Soleil  among  obsequious  courtiers.     Without  go- 
ing into  particulars  it  is  enough  to  recall  that  Louis 
XIV  justified  his  title  of  le  Grand  Monarque  by  raising 
France  to  a  position  of  influence  in  the  politics  of  Eu- 
rope which  made  her  everywhere  respected.     It  was  not 
until  in  the  decline  of  his  personal  vigor,  when  he  had 
married  Madame  de  Maintenon,  the  widow  of  the  writer 
Scarron,  who  had  been  tutor  to  his  illegitimate  children, 
and  under  her  influence  turned  devote  and  came  under 
the  control  of  the  Jesuits,  that  the  splendor  of  The  Sun 
King  began  to  decline.     The  War  of  the  Spanish  Suc- 
cession proved  disastrous  to  the  French  armies,  which 
were  successfully  opposed  by  Marlborough;  the  re- 
sources of  the  kingdom,  no  longer  husbanded  by  Col- 
bert, became  absorbed  in  deficits,  and  a  series  of  deaths 
in  the  royal  household,  which  the  suspicion  of  the  times 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

attributed  to  poisoning,  instigated  by  the  king's  disso- 
lute nephew,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  darkened  the  old 
king's  end. 

Meanwhile,  le  grand  Siecle,  le  Siecle  de  Louis 
Quatorze,  was  prolific  both  in  art  and  letters.  The 
king  himself  affected  to  be  the  autocrat  of  both.  The 
temper  of  the  time  was  official.  As  the  chaos  of  society 
yielded  to  the  formative  and  consolidating  influence  of 
the  royal  authority,  the  aftermath  of  the  French  Renais- 
sance grew  to  be  systematization.  The  Roman  element 
in  the  French  genius  asserted  itself  and  set  its  definite 
and  enduring  impress  upon  French  art  and  letters. 

For  the  genius  of  Rome  had  been  displayed  less  in 
originality  than  in  judicious  adaptation  of  a  variety  of 
examples  to  its  own  needs  and  circumstances.  And  this 
involved  a  systematizing  of  means  to  ends  which,  while 
it  did  little  to  encourage  individual  artists,  trained  up 
a  host  of  competent  craftsmen ;  a  system  of  standardized 
style  and  widely  comprehensive  practical  efficiency. 

Richelieu  had  established  about  1629  the  Academic 
Fran9aise,  for  the  purpose  of  controlling  the  French 
language  and  regulating  literary  taste.  The  trend, 
thus  set,  was  furthered  in  Louis  XIVs  reign  by  the 
recognized  critical  influence  of  Malherbe  and  Boileau. 
Its  immediate  result  was  to  replace  the  imaginative  and 
singing  qualities  of  the  earlier  French  poetry  with  a 
system  of  metrical  versification,  sometimes  rising  to 
heights  of  grandeur  and  beauty,  but  more  usually 
characterized  by  its  fitness  for  narrative  description,  as 
in  La  Fontaine's  Fables  and,  for  heroic  dialogue  as  in 
the  dramas  of  Corneille  and  Racine.  With  both  these 

[84] 


dramatists  individual  characterization  is  replaced  by 
types  of  character;  quick  interchange  of  dialogue 
yields  to  lengthy  speeches  and  action  on  the  stage  is 
supplanted  by  descriptions  of  what  has  occurred  off 
stage  and  by  elaborate  reflections  and  dissertations  on 
the  part  of  the  actors.  In  all  these  respects  Corneille 
differs  radically  from  his  older  contemporary,  Shakes- 
peare, and  Racine,  coming  later,  fixed  these  traits  on 
the  so-called  classic  drama  of  France. 

It  has  been  remarked,  no  doubt  with  justice,  by  a 
French  writer  that  only  a  Frenchman,  and  by  no  means 
all  Frenchmen,  can  appreciate  at  its  proper  estimate 
the  value  of  Racine.  The  latter  is,  in  fact,  the  product 
of  a  quality  in  the  French  genius  that  is  enduring  in 
the  race,  to-wit,  its  heritage  of  the  Roman  tradition. 
This  must  unquestionably  be  taken  into  account  by 
every  conscientious  student  of  French  art,  who  would 
try  to  reach  its  inwardness  through  putting  himself  as 
far  as  may  be,  in  the  mental  attitude  of  the  French 
themselves. 

Among  the  organized  influences  of  the  period  that 
of  the  coterie  or  salon  played  an  important  role.  The 
most  famous  of  them,  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet,  had 
been  established  some  fourteen  years  before  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Academy  as  a  protest  against  the  puerility 
and  license  of  society  and  as  an  encouragement  of 
literary  taste  and  style.  The  ladies  of  the  group  called 
themselves  Les  Predeuses,  the  men,  Esprit  Doux. 
This  coterie,  comprising  among  others,  Richelieu, 
Descartes,  the  reformer  of  Philosophy  in  France,  Cor- 
neille, Bossuet,  La  Rochefoucauld,  the  famous  author 

L55] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

of  the  Maanms,  and  Madame  de  Sevigny,  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  letter-writers,  exercised  at  first  a 
salutary  influence.  But  in  time  the  effort  to  devul- 
garize  the  French  tongue  lead  to  the  invention  of  liter- 
ary conceits,  such  as  strew  the  pages  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Scudery  and  other  writers  of  heroic  romances;  and 
justified  the  satire  of  Moliere,  whose  "Precieuses  Ridi- 
cules" gave  the  cult  its  deathblow. 

In  summing  up  the  literary  aspects  of  the  period 
George  Saintsbury  says :  "In  the  special  characteristics 
of  the  genius  of  the  French,  which  may  be  said  to  be 
clearness,  polish  of  form  and  expression,  and  a  certain 
quality  which  perhaps  cannot  be  so  well  expressed  by  any 
other  word  as  by  alertness,  the  best  work  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  has  no  rivals.  The  charm  of  precision, 
of  elegance,  of  expressing  what  is  expressed  in  the  best 
possible  manner  belongs  to  it  in  a  supreme  degree." 

The  same  words  are  applicable  to  describe  at  least 
the  trend  of  the  development  of  French  painting  during 
this  period ;  for  its  actual  attainment  of  the  above  quali- 
ties belongs  rather  to  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the 
French  spirit  was  able  to  express  itself  more  freely. 
Under  Louis  XIV  French  art  had  not  only  a  patron, 
but  an  arbiter,  who  imposed  his  own  will  and  taste  upon 
obsequious  courtier-painters.  Art  was  officialized, 
firstly  by  the  autocratic  personality  of  the  monarch, 
whose  standard,  if  not  so  expressed  was  virtually  I'art 
c'est  moi;  and  secondly  by  the  royal  establishment  of  the 
Academy  of  Painting  and  Sculpture. 

What  Fontainebleau  had  been  as  an  expression  of  the 
Italianized  spirit  of  the  French  Renaissance,  Versailles 

C56U 


ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN  KING 

became  to  the  Roman  tendency  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury. The  former  grew  up  at  the  call  of  three  kings; 
the  spirit  of  woman  still  haunts  it;  it  lies  embosomed  in 
the  natural  beauties  of  the  Forest.  Versailles,  on  the 
contrary,  is  the  climax  of  artifice ;  summoned  into  being 
by  one  man  and  loaded  with  his  personality.  For  one 
needs  to  be  reminded  that  Louis  XIII  commenced  the 
Palace  and  Louis  Philippe  added  wings  to  it.  To  the 
imagination  Versailles  means  Louis  XIV.  Nature 
had  supplied  a  waste  of  sandy  tract;  he  bid  Le  Notre 
convert  it  into  terraces,  esplanades  and  fountains, 
bordered  by  a  mimic  forest,  with  artificial  lakes,  water- 
falls, rocks  and  glens.  With  a  Roman's  largeness  of 
plan  and  repetition  of  design,  he  summoned  the  f  a9ades 
of  the  palace  into  rigid  uniformity  of  line  fronting  the 
parade  ground  of  extended  terraces.  Everything  is 
grandiose  and  oppressively  monotonous  and  artificial. 
It  entombs  the  autocracy  of  Louis  Quartorze  and  the 
formalism  of  "Le  Grand  Siecle"  as  unmistakably  as  the 
Escorial  does  the  body  of  Philip  II  and  the  soul  of 
Spanish  Catholicism. 

Yet  inside  and  outside  the  Palace  the  French  genius 
proclaims  itself  in  an  exuberance  of  invention,  facility 
and  skill.  Le  Notre  is  still  unrivaled  as  a  landscape 
architect,  while  Le  Brun  and  his  regiment  of  painters 
displayed  as  inexhaustible  a  resourcefulness  in  the  in- 
terior decorations.  That  they  were  courtier-flatterers, 
obsequiously  producing  pictorial  rhodomontade  to 
extol  the  one-man  needs  no  enforcement;  or  that  their 
output  affects  one  with  impatient  fatigue.  Yet  it 
would  be  heedless  to  overlook  the  exuberance  and  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

facility  that  these  men  displayed,  symptomatic  at  least 
of  the  fecundity  of  the  French  spirit  after  it  had  been 
fertilized  by  Italian  influence.  What  they  would  have 
made  of  themselves  if  they  had  been  free  of  the 
regime  of  the  Court,  as  were  Poussin  and  Claude  Lor- 
rain,  can  be  only  conjectured.  Perhaps,  however,  they 
had  in  themselves  that  Roman  element  which  leaned 
toward  and  found  its  best  capabilities  in  the  regimental 
system. 

This  also  may  be  true  of  the  Court  portrait-painters 
headed  by  Hyacinthe  Rigaud  (1659-1743)  and  Nicolas 
Largilliere  (1656-1746),  although  on  the  whole,  these 
two  exhibit  more  individual  character  than  the  decora- 
tors. Rigaud,  particularly,  is  a  strong  man  whose 
virile  personality  comes  to  the  surface  of  the  prodigious 
amount  of  display  that  the  circumstances  of  the  time 
compelled  him  to  adopt.  Observe,  for  example,  his 
(981)  Portrait  of  Louis  XIV  in  the  Louvre.  Painted 
in  1701,  it  represents  the  king  at  the  age  of  sixty-three, 
when  his  days  of  gallantry  were  passed.  The  puffy 
face  is  not  imposing  under  its  brown  perruque.  Stiff- 
ness and  pomposity  characterize  the  pose  of  the  figure, 
planted  on  its  white  silk-encased  legs;  the  exaggerated 
superbness  of  the  blue  velvet  mantle,  heavy  with  silver 
fleur-de-lys,  massed  upon  the  floor  and  turned  back  to 
reveal  the  sumptuousness  of  the  ermine  lining;  and  the 
paraphernalia  of  the  throne,  crimson  canopy,  column 
and  the  Crown  and  Hood  of  Justice,  lying  on  a  stool. 
Yet  it  is  a  shallow  study  that  does  not  discover  beneath 
all  this  panoply  of  ostentation  the  essential  force  of 
physical  and  mental  manhood  which  made  it  possible 

C58] 


PORTRAIT  OF  BOSSUET 


LOUVRE 


HYACINTHE  RIGAUD 


ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN  KING 

for  the  Grand  Monarch  to  impose  his  will  so  absolutely. 
That  it  does  assert  itself  to  a  degree  which  explains 
and  almost  justifies  the  obsequiousness  of  its  acceptance 
by  his  subjects  is  the  measure  of  Rigaud's  bigness. 
None  but  a  painter  who  himself  was  endowed  with 
mental  and  physical  force  could  have  interpreted  the 
subject  so  plausibly;  nay  more,  with  such  convincing- 
ness. 

And  for  corroboration  and  heightened  admiration 
of  Rigaud's  greatness  turn  to  his  (783)  Portrait  of 
Bossuet;  which  worthily  holds  a  place  among  the  mas- 
terpieces of  the  Salon  Carre.  The  "Eagle  of  Meaux," 
as  his  contemporaries  called  the  great  preacher  because 
of  the  survey  and  grasp  that  his  sermons  involved,  was 
distinguished  in  his  finest  utterances  by  an  extraordi- 
nary majesty  of  rhetoric  and  imposing  grandeur  of 
manner.  Although  he  almost  always  aimed  at  the  sub- 
lime, he  scarcely  ever  overstepped  it  or  fell  into  the  bom- 
bastic and  ridiculous.  This  characterization  of  George 
Saintsbury's  might  be  applied  to  Rigaud's  portrait. 
It  is  in  a  worthy  sense  a  heroic  canvas;  but  the  heroic 
is  modified,  the  sumptuousness  mellowed,  the  ostentation 
assuaged.  It  is  nobly  assertive,  yet  with  a  refined 
control.  And  then,  how  genial  the  face  with  its  straight 
and  fearless  glance  and  simple  candor  of  expression! 

Like  the  portrait  of  the  king,  it  was  engraved  by  the 
younger  Drevet,  one  of  that  band  of  French  engravers 
who  added  so  much  luster  to  the  art  of  the  period.  In 
the  logic  of  their  line  and  the  purity  and  vigor  of  ex- 
pression they  have  never  been  surpassed.  Indeed,  it 
may  be  contended  with  much  reasonableness  that  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

French  engravers  of  the  late  seventeenth  and  early 
eighteenth  centuries  represent  in  pictorial  form  the 
finest  intellectuality  of  the  period. 

While  Rigaud  reflects  the  influence  of  his  sojourn  in 
Rome,  Largilliere  was  trained  in  Antwerp  and  later 
studied  under  Sir  Peter  Lely  in  London.  His  measure 
as  a  painter  may  be  best  discovered  in  (491)  Portraits 
of  Largilliere,  his  Wife  and  Daughter.  The  picture 
betrays  the  affectations,  as  well  as  the  excellent  disposi- 
tion of  draperies  and  treatment  of  textures  that  the 
artist  had  learned  from  Lely.  It  also  has  a  curious 
psychological  interest  in  the  way  in  which  Largilliere, 
while  preserving  the  courtly  style,  has  tempered  it  to 
his  family  group ;  has,  as  it  were,  domesticated  it.  The 
figures  are  seated,  shown  to  a  little  below  the  waist. 
The  artist,  in  a  gray,  long  wig  and  drab  suit,  holds  a 
gun  and  fondles  a  spaniel,  a  dead  partridge  lying 
beside  him.  His  daughter,  dressed  in  a  dove-gray 
gown,  trimmed  with  gold,  holds  a  sheet  of  music,  while 
the  mother,  in  a  crimson  robe  with  her  hair  powdered, 
carries  herself  with  easy  and  gracious  alertness.  The 
whole  group  is  painted  with  breadth  and  spirit.  After 
one  has  accepted  the  airs  and  graces  of  the  picture  as 
characteristic  of  the  age,  one's  first  suspicion  of  its 
sentimentality  disappears  in  a  recognition  of  the  sin- 
cerity of  technique  and  intention. 

As  the  seventeenth  century  progressed  French  paint- 
ers became  the  leaders  in  that  invasion  of  Italy,  which  ul- 
timately resulted  in  the  general  Italianizing  of  Euro- 
pean art.  The  effects  on  the  whole  were  disastrous.  For, 
while  the  earlier  influence  of  a  still  living  Italian  cul- 


ABSOLUTISM  AND  THE  SUN  KING 

ture  had  fertilized  the  native  spirit  of  the  countries  that 
it  touched,  this  later  contact  with  the  dead-hand  chilled 
original  impulse  into  soulless  imitation.  Even  in 
France,  where  the  consequences  were  less  severe,  there 
ensued  a  period  of  Italianate  conventions,  represented, 
for  example,  in  Simon  Vouet,  a  mild  version  of  the  great 
somersault-artist,  Le  Brun;  in  the  suave  amiability  of 
Le  Sueur's  Raphaelesque  compositions ;  and  in  the  more 
dramatic  and  interesting  subjects  of  Bon  de  Boulongne 
(1649-1717),  which  suggest  the  influence  of  Cara- 
vaggio;  in  the  flower  pieces  of  Jean  Baptist  Mon- 
noyer  (1634-1699)  and  the  game  and  hunting  subjects 
of  Fransois  Desportes  (1661-1742) . 

Meanwhile,  a  more  honestly  personal  note  appears  in 
Sebastien  Bourdon  (1616-1671).  The  last  named 
varied  his  compilation  of  religious  compositions  with  a 
few  genuinely  observed  and  simply  rendered  genre 
subjects  and  with  at  least  one  fine  portrait.  This  is  the 
bust  (78)  Portrait  of  the  Philosopher,  Descartes:  low- 
toned,  grayish  flesh ;  large  lucid  eyes ;  a  bearing  and  ex- 
pression full  of  character,  devoid  of  any  display;  a 
human  record,  arresting  and  authoritative. 

Further,  there  are  the  three  brothers,  Antoine, 
Louis  and  Mathieu  Le  Nain,  whose  lives  cover  the  period 
from  1588-1677.  Natives  of  Laon,  they  preserved  the 
independence  that  characterizes  the  French  provincial, 
and,  although  they  came  to  Paris  to  perfect  themselves 
in  their  art,  resisted  alike  the  influence  of  Italy  and  the 
domination  of  Le  Brun.  Little  is  known  of  them  be- 
yond the  meager  facts  that  Antoine  painted  minia- 
tures, Louis  some  bust  portraits  and  that  Mathieu  was 

[61] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

appointed  painter  of  the  town  of  Laon;  while  all  three 
were  elected  to  membership  in  the  Academy  at  its 
foundation  in  1648.  This  denotes  broad  and  liberal 
policy  in  the  king's  appointments,  for  nothing  could  be 
farther  from  other  officially  encouraged  art  of  the  day 
than  the  work  of  these  three  brothers.  The  examples 
in  the  Louvre  are  grouped  in  the  catalogue  under  their 
combined  names,  since  no  data  exists  which  can  identify 
the  individual  pictures  with  any  one  of  them.  They 
are  genre  pictures,  mostly  of  rural  subjects — (540)  The 
Forge,  (541)  Rustic  Meal,  (542)  Return  of  the 
Haymakers,  and  so  forth ;  executed  in  a  tonality  of 
gray  and  brown,  very  quiet  and  simple  in  expression, 
and  exhibiting  a  direct  and  careful  study  of  nature. 
One  of  them  (544),  Procession  in  a  Church,  is  distin- 
guished by  the  richness  of  the  costumes.  All  are  akin 
to  the  contemporary  genre  subjects  of  Holland  and 
Flanders  and  anticipate  the  peasant  genre  of  the  nine- 
teenth century. 


CHAPTER  V 

POTJSSIN  AND  CLAUDE  LORRAIN 

THAT  the  Italianate  convention  was  less  disas- 
trous to  France  than  to  other  countries  is  due 
to  two  causes.  One  has  already  been  alluded 
to :  that  France  had  a  vigorous  native  growth  in  art  and 
literature,  ready  for  fertilization,  strong  enough  to  re- 
sist absorption.  The  second  cause  is  to  be  found  in  the 
personality  and  influence  of  Nicolas  Poussin  and,  in  a 
less  degree,  of  Claude  Lorrain.  The  artistic  career  of 
these  two  is  identified  with  Italy  and  particularly  Rome ; 
yet  they  never  ceased  to  be  Frenchmen  and  shaped  the 
Italian  ideal  to  the  needs  of  the  racial  genius. 

Poussin  was  the  father  of  the  French  Classical 
School,  inasmuch  as  it  was  his  example  that  blazed  the 
track  for  the  newly  formed  Academy  of  Painting  and 
Sculpture,  which  has  led  on  to  the  present  day.  Born 
in  Les  Andelys  in  Normandy,  1594,  of  good  family, 
he  showed  an  early  fondness  for  art.  Among  his 
teachers  was  Philippe  de  Champaigne  (1602-1674),  a 
portrait  painter  of  rare  seriousness,  whose  portraits 
stand  out  with  dignified  simplicity  and  forthright 
humanness  amid  the  showier  productions  of  the  time. 
But,  although  his  best  years  were  spent  in  France,  he 
was  of  Flemish  origin,  and  is  regarded  by  the  French 
as  a  member  of  that  school.  Flanders  had  long  been 

[63] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

the  traditionary  source  of  much  French  inspiration  and 
Champaigne's  influence  may  well  have  been  one  by  which 
the  grave,  stalwart  young  Norman,  Poussin,  was  im- 
pressed. He  had  learned  to  draw  by  copying  prints  of 
pictures  by  Raphael,  and  the  latter's  pupil,  Giulio  de 
Romano.  In  time  he  found  his  way  to  Rome,  where 
he  tempered  his  admiration  of  Raphael  with  study  of 
Roman  bas-relief  sculpture.  Meanwhile,  as  befitted  a 
son  of  the  North,  Poussin  gradually  discovered  another 
direct  inspiration  in  landscape.  Out  of  these  three  ele- 
ments he  constructed  for  himself  a  motive  and  method, 
distinguished  by  a  union  of  nature  and  of  architectonic 
repose  and  stability,  in  which  a  balance  is  maintained 
between  the  figures  and  the  landscape.  His  well-known 
example  of  the  Louvre,  Et  Ego  in  Arcadia,  with  its 
Raphaelesque  balance  and  loveliness  of  expression,  its 
extended  composition  of  the  figures  in  three  flat  planes 
and  the  simple  beauty  of  the  landscape,  represents  most 
characteristically  his  triune  motive.  In  the  very  many 
other  examples,  which  the  same  museum  is  fortunate 
enough  to  possess,  the  basis  of  the  motive  is  less  easily 
detected,  for  the  artist  was  designing  with  greater  free- 
dom of  personal  expression. 

The  titles  of  Poussin's  pictures  betray  the  French 
leaning  toward  a  literary  subject.  For  example,  Time 
shelters  Truth  from  the  Attacks  of  Envy  and  Discord, 
has  a  discouraging  note,  suggestive  of  the  worst  fea- 
tures of  the  Italianate  convention.  But  it  is  not  for 
the  subject  that  one  learns  to  look  at  a  Poussin.  Inter- 
est becomes  absorbed  in  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the 
landscape  and  in  the  suave  nobility  of  the  composition. 


POUSSIN  AND  CLAUDE  LORRAIN 

Poussin,  one  discovers  not  only  to  have  been  the  first  of 
the  great  school  of  French  landscape,  but  also  to  have 
remained  unsurpassed  in  his  ability  to  infuse  the  natural- 
ness of  the  scene  with  architectonic  dignity.  And  in 
this  his  treatment  of  the  figure  plays  a  determining 
part.  The  truth  is  that  his  classicism  goes  back  of 
Italian  and  Roman.  He  exhibits  that  affinity  with  the 
Hellenic  spirit  which  appears,  as  we  have  noted,  at  in- 
tervals in  French  art.  How  redolent  of  what  one 
dreams  of  Hellas  and  yet  how  finely  French  in  charac- 
ter are  (738)  Autumn,  in  which  the  Israelite  spies  are 
returning  from  the  Promised  Land,  laden  with  grapes ; 
(737)  Summer,  with  Ruth  and  Boaz  in  the  harvest 
field,  and  (738)  Spring,  the  Earthly  Paradise!  These 
are  landscapes  of  an  ideal  loveliness,  inspired  by  a  sin- 
cere love  of  nature.  Except  for  a  visit  to  France  dur- 
ing 1640-1642,  Poussin  remained  in  Italy,  dying  at 
Rome  in  1665. 

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  -  •  . 

Claude  Gellee,  better  known  as  Claude  Lorrain,  was 
born  at  Chateau  de  Chamagne  near  Toul,  Lorrain,  in 
1600.  One  account  says  that  he  was  apprenticed  to  a 
pastry-cook,  another  that,  having  lost  both  his  parents, 
he  crossed  the  Rhine  to  Freiburg  and  received  instruc- 
tion from  a  wood-carver  and  engraver.  It  is  agreed 
that  he  made  his  way  to  Naples  and  studied  architec- 
ture, and  perspective  and  color  under  a  German  painter, 
Gottfried  Waels.  Then  he  moved  to  Rome  and  en- 
tered the  service  of  the  painter,  Agostino  Tassi,  in  the 
capacity  of  an  attendant.  Later  he  set  out  on  a  tour 
of  travel  which  brought  him  back  to  his  native  village. 

C65] 


But  his  stay  was  short;  he  seems  to  have  felt  the  call 
of  Italy  and  returned  thither  never  to  leave  it.  He 
died  in  1682. 

A  student  of  nature,  constantly  drawing  in  the  open 
air,  he  gradually  acquired  the  style  which  won  the  ap- 
preciation of  his  contemporaries  <and  secured  him  a 
popularity  that  lasted  on  into  the  nineteenth  century. 
It  represents  a  shrewd  assembling  of  features  of  nature- 
study,  drawn  from  diverse  places,  and  is  particularly  dis- 
tinguished by  its  introduction  of  architectural  details. 
By  these  means  he  built  up  a  composition,  as  stable  as 
it  is  ingratiating,  its  heroic  character  pleasantly  ani- 
mated with  groups  of  lively  figures.  In  his  fondness 
for  warm  sunshine  he  is  akin  to  the  Hollander,  Cuyp; 
but  instead  of  the  latter's  pastoral  wholesomeness  the 
feeling  of  Claude's  pictures  is  rather  that  of  sweet  and 
gracious  suavity.  His  world  is  one  from  which  all 
hint  of  irregularity  and  conflict  is  removed ;  wrapped  in 
inviolable  repose.  It  is  a  mannered  world,  tempered 
and  attuned  to  gentle  sentiments  by  artifice;  a  vindica- 
tion of  good  taste  rather  than  an  idealization  of  nature. 
It  is  in  this  respect  that  he  may  be  judged  to  fall  short 
of  Poussin,  who,  on  the  other  hand,  when  he  relies  upon 
architecture  instead  of  nature,  is  inferior  to  Claude. 
The  latter,  in  fact,  for  all  his  nature  study,  appears  to 
have  had  none  of  the  profound  love  of  nature  which 
elevated  Poussin.  Claude  is  much  less  a  landscape 
painter  than  a  contriver  of  beautiful  scenic  effects ;  not 
Classic  in  spirit  as  was  Poussin  but  a  clever  and  allur- 
ing manipulator  of  the  ingredients  of  the  classical  for- 
mula. That  his  work  held  the  fancy  of  the  sentimen- 

[663 


POUSSIN  AND  CLAUDE  LORRAIN 

tally  classicized  taste  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  that 
Poussin  had  to  wait  until  our  own  day  for  a  revival  of 
appreciation  are  equally  intelligible. 

These  two  contemporaries,  while  representative  of 
the  trend  of  their  time  toward  the  Italian  and  the  Roman 
vogue,  maintained  their  identity  as  Frenchmen  and 
shaped  the  foreign  influence  to  their  native  genius,  pro- 
ducing a  new  mode  of  pictorial  subject.  Each  set  a 
motive  for  the  new  Academy,  the  impress  of  which  has 
endured  to  the  present  day.  The  Claude  tradition  has 
persisted  in  the  Academic  habit  of  improving  upon 
nature  and  of  repeating  the  obvious  externals  of  the 
Classic  style;  while  that  of  Poussin  is  discernible  in 
many  artists  who  lived  outside  the  pale  of  the  Academy 
and  yet  were  truly  Classic  in  spirit ;  Corot,  for  example, 
Millet,  and  Harpignies,  to  mention  only  three. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  EOCOCO 

IN  1717  Parisians  enjoyed  two  new  sensations. 
Watteau's  diploma  picture,  Embarking  for  the 
Island  of  Cyihera,  marked  his  admission  to  the 
Academy  of  Painting  and  Sculpture  and  Mile. 
Adrienne  Lecouvreur  made  her  debut  at  the  Comedie 
Fran9aise.  Both  events  were  the  heralds  of  a  new  era. 
The  Grand  Monarque,  dead  two  years,  had  been 
succeeded  by  his  great  grandson,  Louis  XV,  a  child  of 
five,  with  the  pleasure-loving  Duke  of  Orleans  as 
Regent.  The  gloom  of  the  Court  had  been  dissipated 
in  sunshine.  Relieved  of  official  incubus,  the  Gallic 
spirit  floated  lightly  on  the  freer  air.  Immediately  it 
found  its  apotheosis  in  Watteau's  masterpiece./ which 
pitched  the  key  for  the  melodies  of  the  Rococo  period. 
At  the  same  time  it  found  expression  in  the  Le- 
couvreur's  natural,  as  opposed  to  the  artificial,  art  of 
acting.  The  one  was  a  sublimating  of  actual  con- 
ditions by  the  magic  of  art,  and  the  other  an  en- 
franchisement of  art  by  wedding  it  with  nature. 
These  were  the  elements  which  fermented  the 
eighteenth  century;  the  gaysome  pursuit  of  beauty 
and  the  serious  study  of  nature.  It  is  the  former 
only  that  usually  occupies  the  historian  of  art  of  this 
period. 

£683 


THE  ROCOCO 

It  is  customary,  in  fact,  to  regard  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury in  France  as  solely  identified  with  the  Rococo  style 
of  art  and  since  this,  as  every  other  style  always  and 
everywhere,  declined,  to  consider  the  period  one  of  un- 
relieved decadence  and  to  dismiss  it  with  more  or  less 
lack  of  sympathy  and  interest.  A  period  of  decadence, 
certainly  it  was,  for  there  were  elements  in  the  social 
conditions  that  were  moribund;  but  also  other  elements 
which,  however  blindly,  were  making  for  vitality.  The 
century,  indeed,  should  rather  be  regarded  as  one  of 
transition  in  which  old  forms  were  being  replaced  by 
new,  as  the  experiment  of  autocracy  was  to  be  succeeded 
by  the  later  one,  still  not  yet  solved,  of  popular  rule. 
For  the  point  overlooked  is,  that  society  at  this  period 
was  not  entirely  composed  of  courtiers  and  bent  on 
frivolity.  This  is  the  mistake  which  comes  of  confining 
historical  study  to  the  political  intrigues  that  center 
round  the  throne;  and  taking  no  account  at  the  same 
time  of  a  people's  development,  as  it  is  expressed  in 
its  trend  of  thought  and  through  its  arts,  sciences  and 
social  conditions. 

Society  at  the  opening  of  the  eighteenth  century  al- 
ready  included  intellectual  and  literary  elements.  The 
Grand  Monarch  had  patronized  both,  while  the  Academy 
and  coteries  increased  their  prestige.  So  far,  the 
thinkers  and  men  of  letters  had  been  to  a  considerable 
extent  compelled  to  obsequiousness  by  these  various 
forms  of  beaureaucratic  control.  Now  they  were  to 
share  in  the  freer  air  that  pervaded  the  period.  It  is 
significant  to  recall  that  at  the  date  with  which  this 
chapter  opened,  Voltaire  was  twenty- three  years  old; 

C69] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Montesquieu,  twenty-eight;  while  Diderot  and  Jean 
Jacques  Rousseau  were  children,  respectively  of  four 
and  five  years.  These  were  shortly  to  become  leaders 
in  a  mental  revolution  which  prepared  the  way  for  the 
political  and  social  Revolution.  This,  it  should  be  re- 
called, in  anticipation,  was  to  suffer  from  the  manner  of 
its  bringing  on.  It  had  no  stability  at  first,  because  it 
was  founded,  not  on  the  demands  and  convictions  of  the 
masses  of  the  people,  but  upon  theories  derived  from  the 
thinkers  and  writers.  The  latter,  as  usual,  were  the 
leaders,  but,  unfortunately  for  France,  without  a 
phalanx  of  thought  to  back  them.  They  were  not 
giving  expression  to  the  masses,  but  spinning  their 
theories  in  the  atmosphere  exhaled  by  themselves. 

The  eighteenth  century  involved  a  breaking  up  of 
/recognized  conventions  and  a  casting  about  for  panaceas 
and  new  standards.  Chief  of  these  was  what  to-day 
with  humorous  seriousness  we  call  "a  return_to_jiature." 
While  philosophers  argued  for  it,  society  practised  it. 
It  was  fashionable  to  emulate  the  simplicity  of  the 
country  folk;  for  had  not  Rousseau  declared  that  if 
there  is  any  virtue  left  it  must  be  looked  for  among  the 
lower  classes? 

The  changed  mood  of  society  is  closely  represented 
in  the  painting  of  the  time.  The  painters  of  the 
Fete  Galantes  continue  to  contribute  to  the  gay  dance 
of  fashion,  though  gradually  the  Gardens  of  the  Lux- 
embourg are  replaced  by  country  scenes  and  the  lovers 
disport  themselves  with  sentimental  tenderness  in  the 
garb  of  dainty  peasants.  Meanwhile  Chardin  contrib- 
utes to  the  change  of  taste  his  exquisite  bourgeois 


THE  ROCOCO 

genre  and  Greuze  commemorates  the  imagined  virtues 
of  the  proletariate.  These  two  artists,  in  fact,  are  a 
natural  part  of  their  time  and  not  the  exceptions  to  its 
general  trend,  as  is  suggested  by  those  students  of  art 
who  insist  upon  viewing  the  eighteenth  century  solely 
as  the  period  of  the  Rococo. 

From  the  early  days  of  the  Regency  the  soil  was  ready 
for  the  seed  of  simpler  tastes.  After  the  stifling  pomp 
and  ponderous  gloom  of  the  last  years  of  the  Grand 
Monarch,  court  society  was  eager  for  a  freer  and  fresher 
elegance.  The  Luxembourg  rather  than  Versailles  be- 
came the  nucleus  of  fashion.  Moreover,  society  began 
to  seek  relief  from  the  eternal  routine  of  court  life  in 
private  entertaining,  and  the  hotels  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain  rivaled  one  another  in  elegance.  The 
smaller  apartment  and  salon  were  in  vogue,  and  the  skill 
and  inventiveness  of  French  designers  were  expended 
in  converting  the  heavier  and  more  elaborate  furnish- 
ings and  decorations  of  Louis  Quatorze  into  the  ex- 
quisite refinements  of  the  style  of  Louis  Quinze.  It 
is  a  style  that  in  its  elegant  exuberance,  its  airy  inven- 
tion and  charm  and  tact  of  taste  is  a  direct  expression 
of  the  Gallic  spirit.  And  it  was  the  setting,  it  must 
not  be  forgotten,  of  the  paintings  of  the  period.  Either 
occupying  a  panel  in  the  wall  or  ceiling  or  added  as 
cabinet  pictures,  they  are  in  scale  and  spirit  an  integral 
part  of  the  exquisiteness  of  the  ensemble.  To-day,  un- 
fortunately, we  see  them  divorced  from  it;  blossoms 
plucked  from  the  flower-bed  and  set  in  strange  and  in- 
congruous surroundings.  The  fact  has  done  much  to 
estrange  the  sympathy  of  students  from  the  art  of  this 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

period,  which  to  Frenchmen  seems  the  purest  product  of 

the  distinctively  French  spirit. 

•          •••«••• 

Of  this  beautiful  garden  of  painting  Antoine  Wat- 
*  teau  was  the  master  hand.  Born  in  Valenciennes  in 
1684,  he  made  his  way  to  Paris  and  in  time  entered  the 
studio  of  Claude  Gillot,  a  painter,  designer  and  drafts- 
man of  sprightly  and  original  fancy,  who  directed  his 
pupil's  attention  to  the  scenes  of  the  Italian  Comedy 
and  to  decoration.  Later  Watteau  found  a  home  with 
Claude  Audran,  one  of  the  first  decorative  artists  of  the 
day  and  custodian  of  the  Luxembourg.  Here  he  was 
able  to  study  the  Marie  de'  Medici  decorations  by  Ru- 
bens and  feast  his  imagination  on  the  vistas  of  landscape 
in  the  palace  gardens.  In  1712  he  took  up  his  abode 
with  Crozat,  the  collector  of  old  masters  in  whose  gallery 
he  became  acquainted  with  Venetian  painting.  In  these 
particulars  we  have  the  summary  of  Watteau's  external 
influences;  experience  in  decoration,  the  impulse  of 
Jlubens*s~proTific  invention  and  mastery  of  form  and 
movement,  the  richness  and  dignity  of  Venetian  color- 
ing. The  rest  was  Watteau  and  the  Gallic  spirit  which 
was  incarnated  in  him.  It  put  the  cachet  of  fine  art 
on  his  decoration;  refined  and  subtilized  the  Rubens  in- 
spiration and  translated  the  mannered  splendor  of  the 
Venetians  into  familiar  elegance.  Finally  the  result  was 
impressed  with  the  seriousness  of  Watteau's  own  tem- 
perament; that  of  a  consumptive,  passionately  in  love^, 
with  beauty,  haunted  with  the  specter  of  early  death  and 
cherishing  hungrily  every  moment  in  which  he  could  yet 
work.  Hence  the  qualities  of  impersonality  and  aloof -/ 

C723 


THE  ROCOCO 

ness  in  his  art.  The  world  of  sight,  transmuted  by  his 
poet's  imagination,  became  purged  of  its  mundane  ele- 
ments, spiritually  recreated  into  a  vision  of  abstract,  uni- 
versal beauty. 

The  Embarkation,  for  example  (the  original  picture 
is  982  of  the  Louvre;  there  is  an  elaborated  version  of 
it  in  the  Royal  Palace  in  Berlin) ,  is  a  poet's  vision  of  the 
eternal  springtime  of  youth  and  love,  of  happy,  care- 
free  yielding  to  the  soft  promptings  of  nature  and  the 
loveliness  of  life.  Nature  looks  her  loveliest;  the  air  is 
aquiver  with  the  fluttering  of  infant  loves;  the  lovers, 
gaily  hued,  and  as  fancy-free  as  flowers,  dally  on  the 
mossy  bank,  gather  to  the  pleasure-craft  or  strain  their 
eyes  toward  the  golden  horizon  of  their  desires,  absorbed 
in  the  eternity  of  the  present  and  the  stingless  dream 
of  pleasure.  Watteau  himself  at  this  time  was  a  prey 
to  mental  and  physical  distress.  He  died  four  years 
later. 

The  Gilles  (p.  79),  No.  983  in  the  Lacaze  collection 
of  the  Louvre,  has  the  distinction  of  being  a  life-sized 
figure.  His  French  name  does  not  hide  the  fact  that 
he  is  one^of  jhe  Italian,  comedians,  whose  Commedia 
dell'arte,  so  called  because  it  was  a  performance  by  pro- 
fessionals, had  been  popular  during  the  French  Renais- 
sance and  had  done  much  to  extend  the  scope  and  sub- 
tilize the  methods  of  the  French  stage.  Banished  dur- 
ing the  latter  years  of  the  Grand  Monarch,  they  had 
returned  with  the  bright  days  of  the  Regency.  Gilles 
wears  his  clown's  costume  of  creamy  white,  shadowed 
to  olive  in  the  hollows;  rose  ribbons  garnish  his  shoes, 
and  his  drab  hat  shows  against  the  delicate  blue  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

sky.  Below  the  slope  of  the  mound  on  which  he  stands 
appear  the  black-garbed  II  Dottore  on  a  donkey,  // 
Capitano  in  a  rose-colored  vest  and  cap,  Columbine  and 
another.  The  statue  of  a  satyr  lurks  in  the  shadow  of 
the  orange,  tawny  trees.  The  actors  of  the  Italian  Com- 
edy, despite  the  extravagance  of  their  humor  and  comic 
business,  were  serious  artists,  lifting  the  spirit  of  comedy 
to  a  high  level  of  finished  impersonation.  It  is  this  as- 
pect of  the  actor  that  Watteau  has  represented.  Hence 
a  suggestion,  perhaps  for  a  moment,  of  incongruity  be- 
tween the  grotesquely  costumed,  foolish-looking  figure 
and  the  artless  seriousness  of  the  mobile  face.  But  to 
Watteau  it  was  another  enigma  of  life,  of  the  iridescent 
illusion  upon  the  surface  of  dire  reality:  this  comedy 
that  hides  under  light  laughter  the  pain  of  things.  Such 
was  the  mission  of  the  artist:  to  veil  the  bitterness  of 
life  with  the  mirage  of  art's  creation.  It  is  as  a  brother 
artist  that  Watteau  conceived  Grilles. 
I  Poignant  seriousness  is,  then,  the  measure  of  Wat- 
teau's  superiority  to  his  age  and  to  his  successors  in  the 
school  of  Fetes  Galantes.  They  were  imitators  of  his 
motives  and  methods,  with  none  of  his  aloofness ;  enam- 
ored of  the  life  they  depicted  and  dabbling  in  its  shallow- 
ness. 

For  profligacy  reigned  at  Court.  Louis,  when  he  ar- 
rived at  manhood,  having  an  easy  and  diffident  nature, 
drifted  with  the  current  that  surrounded  nim.  His  po- 
litical advisers  married  him  to  Maria  Leczinski,  the 
daughter  of  Stanislaus,  ex-king  of  Poland,  and  provided 
him  with  mistresses.  The  flattery  of  courtiers  styled 


THE  ROCOCO 

him  the  "  first  gentleman  of  France,"  and  he  was  satis- 
fied with  the  dignity.  The  most  famous  of  his  mis- 
tresses, Madame  de  Pompadour,  was  the  actual  ruler 
of  France  for  nearly  twenty  years,  from  1745  until  her 
death  in  1764.  From  her  apartments  in  the  Grand  Tri- 
anon, or  the  State  Rooms  of  Versailles,  she  conducted 
wars,  issued  decrees  and  transacted  the  affairs  of  gov- 
ernment, while  Louis  frittered  away  his  time  in  his  in- 
famous seraglio  of  the  Parc-au-Cerfs.  Relieved  of  La 
Pompadour,  he  sank  to  the  degradation  of  the  Du  Barry. 
It  was  into  the  circle  tainted  with  her  presence  that  the 
young,  lovely  and  virtuous  Marie  Antoinette  was  re- 
ceived, as  the  bride  of  the  Dauphin.  The  end  of  the 
royal  shame  arrived  on  May  10,  1774,  when  Louis,  for- 
saken by  all  except  his  three  daughters,  Mesdames  Ade- 
laide, Henriette  and  Sophie,  died  of  what  was  said  to  be 
smallpox. 

During  this  shameless  reign  the  world-power  of 
France,  built  up  by  the  Grand  Monarch  had  sunk  to 
national  impotence.  Her  possessions  abroad,  won  by 
her  captains  of  war^and  enterprise  in  the  East  Indies 
and  Canada,  ^erewrested  from  her  by  the  English  and, 
as  a  last  humiliation,  she  stood  by  helpless  or  too  indiffer- 
ent to  protest  while  Russia  effected  the  partition  of  Po- 
land. Within  her  own  borders  the  national  spirit  seemed 
to  be  extinct.  Royalty  wasTTeBauched,  while  the  Church 
and  Aristocracy  were  grasping  for  power  and  repudi- 
ating their  responsibilities ;  institutions  of  privilege  bat- 
tening on  the  vitals  of  the  country.  The  commercial 
classes  were  sucked  by  the  leeches  of  taxation  and  the 

C75] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

horde  of  usurers,  bred  from  the  exhaustion  of  society, 
while  the  agricultural  population,  the  natural  backbone 
of  every  country  and  of  France  in  particular,  was  bru- 
talized and  beggared. 

It  was  on  this  national  rottenness  that  Rococo  art, 
most  sprightly  flowering  of  the  Gallic  spirit,  flour- 
ished. The  fact  seems  food  for  cynicism ;  an  illustration 
of  the  esthete's  trite  contention  that  art  has  nothing  to 
do  with  morals  and  of  the  philistine's  scornful  retort 
that  the  fairest  periods  of  art  are  associated  with  the 
foulest  conditions  of  national  life.  Incidentally  the 
esthete  and  the  philistine  alike  are  partial  in  their  choice 
of  examples  and  superficial  in  their  reasoning.  Both 
point  to  such  periods  as  the  fifteenth  century  in  Florence, 
the  sixteenth  in  Venice  and  the  eighteenth  in  France. 
They  ignore  the  seventeenth  in  Holland,  when  a  new 
art  was  fostered  side  by  side  with  the  growth  of  a  new 
nationalism,  and  the  fiber  of  both  was  moral.  Not  in  the 
sense  of  didactic  morality,  but  in  that  vigor  and  stanch- 
ness  of  pride  and  purpose  wliich  represent  the  highest 
coefficient  of  moral  character. 

But  at  the  time  the  Dutch  were  freeing  themselves 
from  political  and  religious  absolutism,  the  Grand  Mon- 
arch had  been  forging  the  clamps  of  autocracy  upon  an 
exhausted  feudalism.  His  grip  removed,  autocracy  and 
feudalism  declined  rapidly  to  decay  and  dissolution. 
The  Rococo  was  the  afterglow  of  The  Sun  King,  and  of 
J  such  color  and  life  as  still  lingered  in  the  privileged  aris- 
tocracy. That  the  latter  was  not  entirely  corrupt  is 
proved  by  the  frequent  heroism  of  individuals  of  the 
old  noblesse  during  the  Days  of  Terror  that  were  to  f  ol- 


THE  ROCOCO 

low.  It  was  Aristocracy  as  an  institution  that  had  s 
become  moribund;  cankered  with  licentiousness.  But 
in  its  individual  members  it  still  retained  something  of 
beauty  and  worth,  though  enfeebled  by  the  general 
atrophy.  Its  art  was  the  dying,  transient  gleam  that 
passed  and  ceased;  whereas  the  dawning  light  of  Hol- 
land, though  interrupted  in  the  eighteenth  century,  per- 
sisted to  re-illumine  the  following  century.  /While  the 
intimate  artistocratic  art  of  the  Rococo  died  with  the 
death  of  privilege,  the  democratic  art  of  Holland,  the 
intimate  product  of  burgher  home  life,  has  survived  to 
extend  its  roots  into  modern  art  in  every  country.  One 
was  an  art  of  life,  the  other  of  dissolution./  But  for  that 
reason  let  us  not  overlook  the  beauty  that  the  latter  pos- 
sessed, nor  what  it  had  of  worth.  It  is  instinct  with  that 
gaiety  and  grace  of  spirit  that  was  to  irradiate  the 
chaos  of  the  Revolution;  and  to  enable  France  to  burst 
forth  again  into  a  new  life  which  once  more  should 
make  her  the  intellectual  and  artistic  leader  of  the 
nations. 

But  justice  is  not  done  to  the  art  of  the  Rococo  even 
by  these  reflections  unless  one  accepts  at  its  own  estimate 
the  qualities  of  the  Gallic  spirit.  The  genius  of  the 
Teutonic  is  seriousness ;  of  the  Celtic,  for  all  its  humor, 
sadness.  One  can  fathom  both;  but  not  the  Gallic 
genius.  That,  to  be  realized,  must  be  surprised  in  its 
flight  in  mid  air.  It  does  not  engender  on  the  ground; 
but,  like  the  Queen-bee,  seeks  its  nuptials  in  the  whirl  of 
ascent  into  the  empyrean.  Its  environment  is  light  and 
liberty  of  airy  movement ;  its  essence,  love  and  life.  The 
spirit  most  akin  to  it  is  the  American,  which  has  the 

£77] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

aerial,  sprightly  qualities  of  a  manhood  that  is  still  youth. 
But,  as  a  nation,  we  are  only  old  enough  to  be  very 
serious  about  business  and  success  therein ;  too  young  to 
be  philosophers;  too  puritanic  still  to  dare  to  be  frank 
about  life  and  love.  Yet  one  of  the  oldest  and  most 
highly  respected  editors  in  America  told  me  once  that 
the  whole  secret  of  the  art  of  novel- writing  was  to  rec- 
ognize that  all  human  life  has  its  origin  and  its  meaning 
in  the  love  of  a  man  and  a  woman.  For  business  pur- 
poses of  successful  writing  we  accept  the  principle  of 
life  being  love  and  love  being  life,  but  wrap  our  accept- 
ance of  it  in  cloaks  of  pharisaical  discretion.  Accord- 
ingly, we  sniff  pruriently  like  a  Tartuffe  at  what  we 
term  the  frivolity  and  libidinage  of  the  Fetes  Galantes. 
Watteau  we  tolerate.  Rightly  we  appreciate  that  his 
peculiar  genius  distilled  the  finest  poetry  from  the  Gallic 
spirit ;  but  with  his  followers,  Pater,  Lancret,  Lemoine, 
Boucher  and  Fragonard  the  case  is  different.  The 
Gallic  spirit  has  grown  increasingly  salacious.  So 
prates  our  Puritanism.  Meanwhile,  let  the  American 
Podsnap  scan  the  covers  and  pages  of  our  own  maga- 
zines, examine  the  book  illustrations  or  lift  his  eyes  to 
the  catch-penny  appeals  of  our  posters  and  advertise- 
ments. Everywhere  he  will  find  the  changes  rung  upon 
the  theme  of  sex-attraction.  But,  this  being  "God's 
Country,"  Podsnap  regards  it  as  part  of  the  providential 
scheme,  whereas  in  France  it  is  salacious.  Or,  possibly, 
Podsnap  is  in  process  of  moral  reformation;  he  sees  no 
harm  at  home  because  none  is  meant.  In  time  he  may 
extend  the  same  tolerance  to  the  Gallic  point  of  view  as 
expressed  in  the  Rococo. 


GILLES 


JEAN  AXTOINE  WATTEAU 


LOUVRE 


THE  ROCOCO 

Watteau's  chief  pupils  were  his  fellow  townsmen, 
Jean  Baptiste  Joseph  Pater  (1695-1736)  and  Nicolas 
Lancret  (1590-1743).  Both  were  conscious  imitators 
of  the  master,  whose  anger  was  aroused  when  Lancret's 
Bal  du  Bois  was  taken  for  his  own.  It  is  possible  that 
this  picture  is  the  one  now  known  as  Fete  in  a  Wood, 
No.  448  of  the  Wallace  Collection.  The  latter  also  con- 
tains a  Conversation  Galante  and  Italian  Comedy  Scene, 
which  closely  imitate  the  rich  delicacy  of  Watteau's  color- 
ing and  catch,  too,  a  gleam  of  his  poetic  feeling.  These 
early  examples  of  Lancret,  perhaps  because  their  inspira- 
tion is  not  his  own,  represent  his  style  at  his  best.  He 
is  more  himself  in  the  four  Seasons  of  the  Louvre,  in 
which  abstract  poetic  feeling  is  superseded  by  a  lively 
interest  in  concrete  touches  of  incident.  In  the  scene 
of  Autumn,  for  example,  fashion  is  disporting  itself  at 
a  picnic  and  one  of  the  young  men  addresses  a  passing 
country-girl,  who  modestly  lowers  her  eyes.  Here  one 
gets  a  glance  at  the  affectations  of  society  in  favor  of 
rural  life  and  virtue.  The  poetry  of  Watteau  has  flut- 
tered down  to  a  pretty  sentimental  bathos:  and,  corre- 
sponding to  the  triviality  of  the  motive,  is  the  character 
of  technique.  It  has  become  more  mannered  in  compo- 
sition, less  supple  in  brushwork,  more  positive  and  less 
harmonious  in  color;  qualities  which  grew  into  a  hard- 
ness of  style,  as  Lancret  settled  down  to  a  more  or  less 
mechanical  repetition  of  gallant  subjects.  Even  more 
dry  in  method  is  Pater,  though  he  again  shows  to  better 
advantage  in  the  Wallace  Collection  than  in  the  Louvre. 
His  Fete  in  a  Park,  Conversation  Galante  and  Fete 
Galante  of  the  former  collection  are  still  close  to  the 

C79] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Watteau  model  and  catch  a  little  of  its  mingling  of 
piquancy  and  subtlety. 

Francois  Boucher  (1704-1770)  was  the  typical 
painter-decorator  of  the  period.  After  studying  with 
Lemoine,  the  Italianate  decorator  of  the  great  ceiling  in 
the  Salon  d'  Hercule  at  Versailles,  Boucher,  though  he 
missed  the  Prix  de  Rome,  visited  Italy  on  his  own  account 
in  the  company  of  Van  Loo.  Returning  thence,  he  rap- 
idly won  Academic  distinction  and  attracted  the  notice 
of  La  Pompadour,  who  advanced  him  at  Court  and  con- 
sulted him  on  all  questions  of  art.  While  he  was  epi- 
curean in- his  tastes,  his  habit  of  work  was  indefatigable, 
involving  ten  hours  a  day  of  steady  application.  His 
output,  therefore,  was  enormous,  much  being  of  neces- 
sity hastily  conceived  and  executed.  His  reputation  has 
suif ered  in  consequence,  as  well  as  from  the  fact  that, 
being  decorative,  it  is  seen  at  a  disadvantage  when  dis- 
associated from  the  space  and  the  surroundings  for  which 
it  was  originally  designed.  It  was  in  the  patterning  of 
surfaces  that  he  excelled;  as  a  draftsman  and  designer; 
but  his  color  is  often  insipid,  his  brushwork  entirely 
lacking  in  virtuosity ;  while  flesh-parts,  draperies,  clouds, 
rocks  and  trees  have  a  soft  monotony  of  texture.  He 
was  correspondingly  indifferent  to  the  diverse  expres- 
sions of  human  life.  The  human  form  was  simply  a 
model  for  decorative  arrangements;  now  draped,  now 
nude;  here  posing  as  a  shepherdess,  there  as  a  sugges- 
tion of  some  mythological  personage  of  Olympus. 
Thus  he  turned  out  an  unconscionable  quantity  of  artifi- 
cial and  mechanical  figure-subjects,  interesting  mainly 
for  the  fluency  and  fecundity  of  their  decorative  inven- 


THE  ROCOCO 

tion.  Perhaps,  after  all,  his  greatest  claim  to  recollec- 
tion is  that  he  was  one  of  the  masters  of  Fragonard. 

Jean  Honore  Fragonard  (1732-1806)  won  the  Prix 
de  Rome,  spent  some  time  in  Sicily,  and  returned  to 
make  a  great  success  with  a  large  historical  canvas, 
Le  Grand  Pretre  Croesus  se  Sacrifice  pour  Sauver  Cal- 
lirihoe.  This,  however,  was  his  last  essay  in  the  histori- 
cal-academic style.  Henceforth  he  became  indemnified 
with  gallant  and  amorous  subjects,  distinguished  by 
largeness  and  facility  of  execution  as  well  as  by  brilliant 
virtuosity.  More  than  any  other  painter  of  the  period 
does  he  reveal  the  influence  of  Rubens,  whose  series  of 
canvases  in  the  Luxembourg,  commemorating  Marie  de' 
Medici,  was  more  or  less  the  School  of  Painting  for  the 
eighteenth  century,  as  it  again  became  for  the  Roman- 
ticists in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth.  Rubens  him- 
self represented  the  Italian  influence  interpreted  by  the 
Northern  genius,  and,  as  participators  in  the  latter,  the 
French  now  began  to  accept  the  lesson  of  Italy  through 
the  example  of  the  Flemish  master.  The  result  was 
to  train  a  succession  of  great  painters,  Watteau, 
Chardin,  Fragonard  and  later  Delacroix;  artists  who, 
however  much  they  may  differ  in  personal  characteris- 
tics, are  united  in  being  masters  of  color  and  brushwork. 

This  mastery  is  the  source  of  Fragonard's  superiority 
to  Boucher  in  decorative  composition.  Boucher  emu- 
lated the  inventive  faculty  of  Rubens,  but  overlooked 
the  latter's  realization  of  form  and  movement,  qualities 
in  which  Fragonard  excelled.  Thus  the  latter's  Cupids 
Sporting  and  Cupids  Reposing,  which  adorn  the  grand 
staircase  in  the  Wallace  Gallery,  while  they  bear  a 

C81] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

cursory  resemblance  to  Boucher's  decorations,  are  im- 
measurably more  vital.  The  flesh  tones  are  rosy  and 
limpid;  the  bodies,  supple  and  plastic,  are  enveloped  in 
a  silvery  transparent  vapor;  while  the  exquisite  decora- 
tiveness  is  enhanced  by  the  suggestion  of  life  and  the 
luxuriousness  is  tempered  with  virility.  The  same 
masculine  grasp  and  handling  invigorate  the  delicate 
fabric  of  the  smaller  panel  pictures.  Their  subjects 
are  trivial,  skimming  over  the  surface  of  passion  with 
airy  persiflage;  but  the  trifles  are  immeshed  in  a  web 
of  virtuosity,  as  sure  as  it  is  dainty:  the  creation  of  a 
master,  though  he  chose  to  work  in  petto. 

Fragonard  is  the  artist  most  characteristic  of  the 
period.  Watteau  spiritualized  his  vision  of  love  and 
life ;  breathed  a  soul  into  gallantry ;  but  Fragonard  saw 
it  as  it  had  become — a  graceful  artifice.  For,  as  the 
century  proceeded,  society  grew  satiated  with  license; 
passion  became  exhausted  and  was  replaced,  on  the  one 
hand,  by  sentimental  yearnings  after  simpler  and  purer 
conditions  and,  on  the  other,  by  a  cynical  trifling  with 
the  affairs  of  the  heart.  Coquetry  and  gallantry  be- 
came opposing  pieces  in  the  game  of  love-making,  in 
which  the  attack  and  the  defense  were  regulated  partly 
by  the  rules  of  the  game  and  partly  by  the  nimble  wit 
of  the  players.  Artifice  superseded  feeling  and  was 
mirrored  most  delightfully  in  the  finesse  of  Fragonard's 
art. 

.  •••••• 

When  we  turn  from  imagined  scenes,  in  which  the 
spirit  of  the  age  is  enshrined,  to  the  portraits  of  the 
personages  who  lived  and  had  their  being  in  it,  we  meet 


THE  ROCOCO 

as  chief  interpreter,  Jean  Marc  Nattier  (1685-1766). 
He  is  to  the  Rococo  what  Rigaud  and  Largilliere  were 
to  the  period  of  The  Sun  King.  Pomp  has  yielded  to 
elegance;  character  to  fashion;  stamina  to  grace  of 
style;  virility  to  virtuosity.  If  the  pretensions  of  the 
Grand  Siecle  oppress  us,  the  mincing  prettiness  and 
affectations  of  the  eighteenth  cloy.  For  it  is  essentially 
a  woman's  age  in  the  worst  sense;  that  manhood  has 
capitulated  to  femininity,  and  that  the  latter  exercises 
its  domination  through  the  most  obvious  and  trivial 
qualities  of  sex  attraction.  The  Pompadour  wields  a 
kind  of  power,  yet  it  is  exerted  to  deprave  and  to  pull 
down ;  apres  nous  le  deluge.  But  power  is  for  the  most 
part  in  abeyance.  The  age  has  succumbed  to  silken 
fetters.  Passion  is  exhausted,  life  has  become  a  shallow 
comedy.  The  scene  may  be  set  in  the  open,  but  the 
air  is  laden  with  attar  of  roses  and  the  powder  of  com- 
plexions and  hair.  The  lumber-room  of  mythology  as 
well  as  the  farmyard  has  been  drawn  upon  for  proper- 
ties; and  the  stage  manager  appears  as  a  dancing  and 
deportment  master.  The  puppet-players,  with  set 
smiles  and  gestures  a  la  mode,  attitudinize  and  languish ; 
miracles  of  dainty  artifice,  as  seductive  as  the  porcelain 
bric-a-brac  of  Sevres.  But,  for  all  its  superficiality  and 
insipidity,  this  playing  with  life  had  its  charm;  and  it 
was  Nattier 's  gift  to  render  it  with  a  grace  and  fluency 
of  style  that  preserve  its  flavor. 

While  Nattier  is  well  represented  in  the  Louvre,  it 
is  in  Versailles,  in  the  gallery  devoted  to  his  portraits, 
that  he  can  be  studied  to  best  advantage.  Here  are  the 
portraits  of  Queen  Marie  Leczinsky  and  her  daughters, 

C83] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Mesdames  Elizabeth,  Adelaide,  Henriette,  Sophie  and 
Louise.  Some  of  them  are  what  the  French  call  por- 
traits d'apparat;  pictures  of  state  display,  with  volumi- 
nous rich  draperies,  and  the  paraphernalia  of  hangings 
and  columns;  representing  fine  ladies  rather  than 
grandes  dames  and  in  a  rhetorical  style,  more  character- 
ized by  volubility  than  impressiveness.  They  are,  how- 
ever, admirably  decorative;  for  Nattier  shared  the 
genius  of  design  which  distinguished  the  age  and  was 
a  thoroughly  accomplished,  if  superficial,  painter  and 
colorist.  He  excelled  particularly  in  his  effective 
handling  of  large  surfaces  of  unbroken  color,  his 
favorite  hues  being  blue  and  red;  captivating  in  the 
purity,  choiceness  and  nuance  of  their  tones.  That  all 
the  faces  seem  to  belong  to  one  family  and  are  rather 
insipid  in  expression,  is,  perhaps,  less  his  fault  than  a 
result  of  the  modishness  of  the  time  and  the  stereotyped 
method  of  dressing  the  hair  and  making  up  the  face. 
Nor  is  he  responsible  for  the  vogue  that  impelled  ladies 
to  pose  as  beings  from  Olympus  or  as  nymphs,  conde- 
scending to  assist  the  processes  of  nature.  That  these 
fads  of  society  did  not  escape  the  ridicule  of  contem- 
poraries appears  in  a  quotation  from  the  satirical 
journal,  Mercure.  "Our  ladies  are  represented,"  it 
says,  "almost  indecently  naked,  their  only  garment  a 
tunic,  which  leaves  throat,  arms  and  legs  uncovered. 
This  garb,  which  is  in  reality  none,  is  eked  out  by  a 
piece  of  silk,  wrapped  about  them  in  such  a  way  as  to 
serve  no  useful  purpose,  though  it  must  be  cumbersome 
to  wear  for  it  contains  many  yards  of  fine  stuff.  Some 
of  these  ladies  are  crowned  with  ears  of  wheat  or  other 


THE  ROCOCO 

rustic  adornment,  most  appropriately  fastened  with 
strings  of  pearls.  Their  common  amusement,  it  ap- 
pears, is  to  lean  upon  earthenware  pots,  filled  with 
water,  which  they  are  invariably  tipping  over  so  as  to 
water  the  gardens  at  their  feet.  This  leads  us  to  be- 
lieve that  they  are  fond  of  horticulture;  a  supposition 
confirmed  by  the  fact  that  they  are  always  represented 
in  the  open  country.  Another  of  the  favorite  recrea- 
tions seems  to  be  the  raising  of  birds,  even  of  those  kinds 
most  difficult  to  tame,  such  as  eagles,  which  we  frequently 
observe  them  trying  to  nourish  with  white  wine  out 
of  golden  goblets.  They  seem,  however,  to  be  most 
thoroughly  successful  in  the  breeding  of  turtle  doves, 
for  these  gentle  birds  flutter  about  some  of  them,  espe- 
cially those  of  more  melancholy  humors,  in  great  num- 
bers." 

Nattier 's  vogue,  as  the  magician  who  could  be  "true 
to  life"  and  yet  make  all  his  sitters  beautiful,  was  imi- 
tated at  a  distance  by  the  other  portrait  painters  of  the 
period.  Chief  among  these  were  Jean  Baptiste  Van 
Loo  (1684-1745)  and  his  three  sons,  Charles  Andre, 
called  Carle,  (1705-1765)  ;  Louis  Michel  (1707-1771) 
and  Charles  Andre  Philippe  (1718  to  about  1785). 
Of  the  family  Carle  was  the  most  skilful  painter.  On 
one  occasion  he  represented  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit 
the  halt  of  a  party  of  hunters  for  luncheon  (889, 
Louvre).  The  gentlemen's  costumes  are  point  device 
and  the  ladies  are  fresh  from  the  ceremonies  of  the 
toilette;  the  whole  scene  is  amazingly  artificial  and  im- 
possible from  any  sportsman's  point  of  view;  but  possi- 
bly for  that  reason  thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  age. 

C85] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

The  picture  is  an  interesting  record  of  manners  and  so 
are  Carle  Van  Loo's  portraits.  But  the  faces,  while  no 
less  conventionally  treated  than  Nattier's,  are  without 
the  latter's  esprit,  while  the  rendering  of  the  costumes  is 
correspondingly  uninspired.  In  fact,  beside  his  con- 
temporaries, Nattier  is  the  magician  that  he  claimed  to 
be.  He  is  alone  among  the  portrait  painters  in  oils  who 
catches  the  glamour  of  society's  elegant  routine.  In 
this  his  only  rivals  are  the  artists  in  the  newly  invented 
medium  of  pastel. 

Side  by  side  with  the  painters  of  fashionable  por- 
traits and  of  the  Fetes  Galantes  were  two  who  depicted 
subjects  drawn  from  the  bourgeois  and  humbler  classes; 
Jean  Baptiste  Simeon  Chardin  (1699-1799)  and  Jean 
Baptiste  Greuze  (1725-1805).  The  former,  though  he 
secured  little  notice  from  his  contemporaries,  outside  the 
ranks  of  the  artists  and  one  or  two  critics,  is  to-day 
held  in  high  esteem  as  an  original  artist  and  accomplished 
colorist;  while  the  latter,  after  enjoying  an  exceptional 
popularity,  suffered  during  the  Revolution  an  eclipse 
from  which  he  has  never  really  emerged.  For  Greuze's 
popularity  declined  with  the  passing  of  the  conditions 
which  inspired  it. 

His  pictures,  indeed,  chiefly  interest  the  modern 
student  for  the  light  they  cast  upon  the  state  of  mind 
of  the  society  of  his  time.  In  1755  Greuze  astonished 
and  delighted  society  with  his  Salon  picture,  The  Village 
Bride.  Five  years  later  A  Father  Reading  the  Bible 
to  his  Children  created  another  sensation.  They  were 
followed  by  A  Father's  Curse  and  The  Son  Chastened 

C863 


PRINCESSE  DE  CONDE  AS  DIANA  JEAN  MARC  NATTIER 

METROPOLITAN  MUSEUM  OF  ART 


THE  ROCOCO 

and  others  of  like  import.  Greuze,  in  fact,  established 
the  vogue  of  the  sentimental-moral  picture,  at  the  same 
time  that  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  was  charming  the 
sensibilities  of  society  with  La  Nouvelle  Heloise;  and 
Diderot  in  his  criticisms  contended  that  "to  render 
virtue  amiable  and  vice  odious  was  the  proper  aim  of 
art."  Moreover,  Greuze  drew  the  models  for  his  story- 
telling subjects  from  that  third  estate,  which  Rousseau 
declared  to  be  the  only  surviving  repository  of  virtue. 
The  groups  were  theatrically  arranged,  the  actors  play- 
ing their  several  parts  to  the  top  of  their  bent,  so  that 
the  compositions  represent  a  tangle  of  excessive  ges- 
tures. One  of  them,  representing  a  mother  surrounded 
by  her  offspring,  was  wittily  satirized  as  a  "fricassee  of 
children."  The  very  intensity  of  the  emotions  depicted 
served  to  stimulate  the  jaded  sensibilities  of  society, 
while  their  moral  and  sentimental  tendency  was  a  feature 
of  the  contemporary  movement,  partly  sincere,  partly  an 
elegant  fad,  which  advocated  the  resort  to  simpler  and 
sweeter  conditions  of  living. 

Greuze's  popularity  was  enhanced  by  his  single- 
figure  subjects  of  young  girls,  in  various  phases  of  tear- 
ful and  languishing  emotion.  They  are  of  that  fasci- 
nating age,  when  childhood  is  ripening  into  first  woman- 
hood and  innocence  is  bubbling  with  wistf ulness  and  flut- 
tered with  faint  shadows  of  awakened  sensibility. 
With  caressing  tenderness  the  artist's  brush  lingers 
over  the  soft  hair  and  the  ringlet  that  has  strayed  from 
its  ribbon;  the  soft  down  that  grows  above  the  fore- 
head; the  full  and  melting  eyes,  on  the  lashes  of  which 
a  tear-drop  often  lingers ;  the  curving  nostrils,  the  kiss- 

C873 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

inviting  lips,  the  rounded  cheeks  and  neck  and  the  firm 
small  bosom,  peeping  from  chemise  or  drapery.  Adora- 
ble simplicity!  Innocence,  most  inviting  1  For  these 
subjects,  with  all  their  affectation  of  modesty,  are  more 
symptomatic  of  moral  decadence  than  any  other  pictures 
of  the  period.  Whether  you  interpret  them  as  appeal- 
ing to  a  sentimentality  that  needs  the  stimulus  of  exag- 
gerated loveliness,  or  to  an  appetite  that  can  be  stimu- 
lated only  by  an  invitation  veiled  with  innocence,  they 
equally  are  products  of  an  exhausted  moral  sense.  Nor 
is  there  any  escape  from  the  consciousness  of  their  arti- 
ficiality and  artistic  trickery.  The  motive  palls  by  repe- 
tition; the  few  devices,  learned  from  Rubens,  are  con- 
centrated upon  the  points  that  will  gain  the  readiest 
acceptance,  while  the  backgrounds,  draperies  and 
shadows  are  treated  perfunctorily  and  the  color  is 
heavy  and  uninspired.  The  claims  of  art,  indeed,  have 
been  sacrificed  to  a  tickling  of  the  popular  taste. 

It  is  particularly  in  this  respect  that  Chardin  proves 
himself  superior  to  his  successful  contemporary.  The 
motive  of  his  work  is  sincerely  and  unequivocally  artistic 
and  his  technique  correspondingly  sound.  In  1728 
Chardin  showed  at  one  of  the  open-air  exhibitions  in 
the  Place  Dauphin  some  twelve  pictures,  among  which 
was  The  Ray  Fish,  now  in  the  Louvre.  For  a  time 
he  confined  himself  to  subjects  of  still-life,  until,  as  the 
story  goes,  he  was  stung  by  the  remark  of  a  portrait 
painter:  "You  seem  to  think  that  a  portrait  is  as  easy 
to  paint  as  a  sausage."  The  suggestion  is  that  this  was 
the  reason  Chardin  turned  to  the  painting  of  figures ; 
and  produced  those  genre  pictures  of  bourgeois  life 


THE  ROCOCO 

which  rival  the  beauty  of  Vermeer's,  but  are  thoroughly 
French  in  feeling  and  original  in  method.  "For  his 
manner  of  painting,"  as  one  of  his  contemporaries  re- 
marked, "is  singular.  He  places  his  colors  alongside  of 
one  another  almost  without  mixing  them,  so  that  his 
work  looks  like  mosaic  or  patchwork  or  like  that  hand- 
made tapestry  called  point-carre."  Chardin,  in  fact, 
had  devoted  much  study  to  the  relation  of  colors  and 
their  effects  upon  one  another,  being  in  this  respect  far 
in  advance  of  his  day.  "He  is  the  painter,"  wrote 
Diderot,  "who  understands  the  harmony  of  colors  and 
reflections.  O  Chardin,  it  is  not  white,  red  or  black 
that  you  grind  to  powder  on  your  palette ;  it  is  the  very 
substance  of  the  objects  themselves.  It  is  the  air  and 
light  that  you  take  on  the  point  of  your  brush  and  fix 
upon  the  canvas.  At  times  your  painting  is  like  a  vapor 
breathed  upon  the  canvas  and  again  it  resembles  a  light 
foam  which  has  been  thrown  upon  it.  Go  close  to  it; 
everything  is  confused  and  disappears ;  draw  off,  and  all 
is  reproduced,  recreated.  It  is  said  that  Greuze,  en- 
tering the  salon  and  seeing  one  of  Chardin's  pictures, 
looked  at  it  and  passed  on,  sighing.  This  brief  praise 
is  more  eloquent  than  mine."  Diderot's  appreciation  of 
Chardin  has  been  confirmed  by  posterity,  as  also,  to  some 
extent  his  later  attitude  toward  Greuze:  "I  no  longer 
care  for  Greuze." 

In  an  age,  abounding  in  artificiality  and  lack  of  poise, 
Chardin  displayed  the  distinctively  French  gifts  of  dis- 
cretion, moderation,  sobriety,  harmony,  and  esprit. 
His  art  represents  that  soundness  and  sanity  in  the 
French  character  and  life  which  inured,  notwithstanding 

C89] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

the  frippery  and  meretricious  sentiment  and  decadence 
of  society  at  large ;  which  beneath  the  shallow  currents  of 
thought  and  conduct  represented  what  is  constant  in  the 
race  and  was  to  rise  to  the  surface  and  survive  after  the 
upheavals  of  the  Revolution. 


MOTHER  AND  SON 


JEAN  BAPTISTE  CHARDIN 


LIECHTENSTEIN  GALLERY,  VIENNA 


IN  1785,  about  midway  between  the  accession  of 
Louis  XVI  in  1774  and  his  execution  in  1793, 
Jacques  Louis  David  exhibited  at  the  Salon  The 
Oath  of  the  Horatii.  The  following  year  Marie  An- 
toinette's toy  village,  Le  Hameau,  was  finished  in  the 
Park  of  Versailles,  and  the  Queen  and  her  ladies  of 
honor  played  the  innocent  role  of  dairy  maids.  While 
this  fact  is  typical  of  the  feebleness  into  which  had 
sunk  the  old  order,  David's  picture  forms  an  epoch  in 
the  advance  of  the  new.  Indeed,  from  this  time  on- 
ward,  during  nearly  a  century,  epochs  become  symp- 
tomatic of  the  political  life  of  France  and  the  painters 
will  be  forced  to  contribute  their  evidences  of  the  suc- 
cession of  shocks  of  change. 

For  hitherto,  since  the  beginning  of  the  French 
Renjaissaiice,  painting  in  France  has  been  mainly  an 
expression  of  the  fashion  and  whims  of  society ;  its 
geijesis  and  motive  being  aristocratic,  representing  the 
taste,  of  royalty  and  the  privileged  classes.  But  now, 
at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  era  of  undis- 
puted privilege  is  passing.  France  is  about  to  throw 
off  the  yoke  under  which  one  third  of  the  land  was 
owned  by  the  nobility,  one  third  by  the  Church,  and  the 
remaining  third  bore  the  entire  burden  of  taxation.  The 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

democratic  ideal,  cherished  sporadically  throughout  the 
Middle  Ages  by  the  free-cities,  asserted  by  the  Hol- 
landers in  the  seventeenth  century  and  reasserted  by  the 
American  Colonies  in  1776,  is  to  be  acclaimed  in  France. 
Henceforth  it  is  the  collective  needs  and  ideals  of  the 
community  that,  at  least  in  theory,  are  to  be  considered ; 
and  it  is  to  these  that  painting,  in  so  far  as  it  keeps 
pace  with  the  expression  of  the  national  genius  in  other 
manifestations  of  art,  will  respond. 

While  the  surface  of  French  society  had  been  irides- 
cent with  the  film  of  color,  reflecting  the  immorality,  un- 
morality  and  more  or  less  vgrM  inji] s .JDPOreP fie- n f  high  life, 
the  depths  below  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  had 
been  in  ferment  with  ideas  of  sanity  and  reformation. 
True  to  its  jacial  origin,  the  French  mind,  in  its  effort 
toward  national  betterment,  had  reverted  to  the  Roman 
and  thence  to  the  Spartan  ideal.  Philosophers  had  reit- 
erated the  need  of  returning  to  the  example  of  the  Re- 
public of  Rome;  the  schools  and  colleges  had  urged  it 
and  the  theses  of  schoolboys  had  rung  the  changes  on 
the  patriotism  and  the  austere  virtues  of  Roman  citizens. 
In  the  disintegration  that  had  come  upon  France  the 
Gallic  mind  was  instinctively  directed  toward  the  cohe- 
sion and  organization  of  the  Roman  Republic.  It  was 
seeking  in  its  Roman  origin  an  ideal  and  the  architec- 
tonics to  realize  it. 

Meanwhile,  the  gathering  energy  had  not  as  yet 
coalesced.  It  was  still  only  fluent  in  the  community  and 
the  ripple  of  its  movement  had  as  yet  stirred  only  a 
little  elegant  froth  upon  the  surface.  For  example,  the 
beautiful  and  talented  Madame  Vigee  Le  Brim  ( 1755- 

[92] 


REVOLUTION 

1842),  whose  sentimental  and  innocently  refined  por- 
traits are  characteristic  of  what  is  pathetically  purest 
in  the  age,  indulged  her  friends  in  the  novelty  of  a 
supper  a  la  Grecque.  The  guests,  arrayed  in  their 
hostess's  studio  properties,  reclined  amid  flowers,  sing- 
ing Gluck's  chorus  from  The  God  of  Paphos  while 
the  cook  prepared  the  viands  according  to  the  Greek 
recipes,  described  in  the  Abbe  Barthelemy's  recent 
novel,  "Voyage  du  Jeune  Anacharsis."  The  repast 
must  have  been  of  Spartan  frugality,  since  according  to 
madame  its  total  cost  did  not  exceed  fifteen  francs.  It 
was  the  fact  that  the  sprightly  mind  of  the  gay  young 
artist  was  playing  upon  the  surface  of  the  thought- 
movements  of  the  time  which  gave  the  affair  a  social 
vogue.  In  contrast  with  this  trifling  was  the  part 
played  almost  immediately  afterwards  by  David. 

David  was  the  favorite  pupil  of  Joseph  Marie  Vien 
(1716-1809)  who  had  already  responded  to  the  Classi- 
cal trend  of  the  time  by  declaring  that  painting  should 
adopt  '!the__npjble_stjle.''  With  Vien,  however,  the 
'!noble_jstyj.e"  was  a  question  purely  of  style:  an 
affair  of  externals,  clothing  empty  forms.  It  reflected 
the  influence  of  the  German  critic,  Winckelmann  ( 1717- 
1768),  the  founder  of  scientific  archeology  and  of  the 
history  of  classic  art.  His  "Thoughts  on  the  Imita- 
tion of  Greek  Works  in  Painting  and  Sculpture" 
(1755)  and  "History  of  the  Art  of  Antiquity"  (1764) 
are  the  products  of  a  rarely  cultured  mind  and  highly 
systematized  thinking  and  of  an  imagination  which,  as 
if  by  instinct,  penetrated  the  genius  of  the  Classic. 
Nevertheless,  the  value  of  some  of  his  conclusions  is 

C93] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

impaired  by  their  unquestionable  parti-pris;  notably 
his  doctrine  that  ^ainting_reaches  its  highest  possibilities 
by  imitating-  sculpture-  that  the  "marble  manner"  and 
not  the  nnjop  nf  coW  and  form  and  the  accompaniments 
of  tone,  and  light  and  atmosphere,  must  be  the  painter's 
aim.  Meantime  this  doctrine  was  obtaining  currency 
and  aff  ected  David. 

After  two  unsuccessful  attempts  David  won  the 
Prix  de  Rome.  He  had  had  some  experience  in  paint- 
ing decorations  after  the  style  of  Boucher;  but  with  his 
sojourn  in  Rome  his  manner  underwent  a  complete 
change.  Like  Poussin,  he  was  aff  ected  by  the  marjile 
h^fj-reljpfa-  In  following  these  models  he  was  no 
doubt  influenced  by  Winckelmann,  but  even  more  by  the 
bias  of  his  own  taste.  For  David  was  already  a  Rfiz 
a*  kgQTt  Vowed  to  ajusterejcjeals  and  lofty  _ 


patriotism,  his  study  gravitated  naturally  to  the  Roman 
art  rather  than  to  that  of  the  Italians,  and  to  the  baSr 
reiiefs  as  the  examples  of  the  pictorial  use_of  sculpture. 
Their  severity  accorded  with  that  of  his  Republican 
ideals;  moreover,  they  often  represented,  as  in  the  case 
of  Trajan's  column,  actual  incidents  of  Roman  triumph, 
and  David  was  at  heart  a  jaaturalist.  He  proved  this 
in  the  early  portrait  of  himself  anam  the  later  ones  of 
other  subjects,  many  of  which  are  also  in  the  Louvre. 
They  are  the  work  of  a  keen,  clear-eyed  student,  of  the 
actual,  who  recorded  what  he  saw  with  complete^  frank- 
ness as  well  as  decisive  force.  This  grasp  of  actuality, 
accompanied,  as  it  was,  with  ardor  of  patriotism,  ex- 
plains David's  fitness  to  become  the  man  of  the  hour. 
The  Path  of  the  Horatii  was  instantly  found  to 

[94] 


REVOLUTION 

visualize  what  had  long  been  in  the  minds  and  on  the 
tongues  of  so  many  of  his  countrymen.  David  was  ac- 
cepted  forthwith  as  the  artist  of  their  ideals  and  the 
arbiter  of  public  taste.  This  in  a  country  like  France 
which  so  inevitably  translates  its  feeling  and  aspiration 
inig  forms  of  ftrt  meant  that  he  was  able  to  exert  an  in- 
calculable influence  in  stimulating  the  one  and  pointing 
direction  to  the  other.  Terms  of  patriotism  and  frugal 
living,  of  devotion  to  country  and  civic  duty,  passed  into 
the  vernacular  of  the  crowd;  men  and  women  accosted 
one  another  on  the  streets  as^itizensj  the  Roman  fashion 
extended  to  Clothes,  furniture  and  other  accessories  of 
living^  the  Roman  example  was  extolled  in  the  market- 
place and  became  the  text  ^f  _oratojrs  in  the  First  Na- 
tional Assembly.  The  latter  had  come  into  being  and 
discovered  its  power  within  four  years  of  the  appear- 
ance of  David's  pictures;  so  rapidly  did  events  move 
when  once  the  fluent  emotions,  desires  and  aspirations 
had  been  precipitated  into  some  degree  of  cohesipjn,. 

It  has  been  seldom  given  to  an  individual  artist  to 
realize  so,,  fully,  the  latent  thought  of  his  time  and  bring 
it  forth  into  action;  and  it  is  this  which  makes  David 
memorable  and  confers  on  this  particular  picture  a  phe- 
nomenjl_Jmp£adtance.  For  otherwise  it  is  singularly 
jejune.  Viewed  solely  as  a  picture,  the  group  formed 
by  the  father  and  his  three  sons  is  stiff  and  frigid  in  its 
theatrical  posturing,  while  the  women  at  the  side  are 
sentimentally  attitudinizing.  But  because  of  these  very 
faults  it  was  all  the  more  expressive  of  the  spirit  pre- 
ceding the  Revolution,  which  found  its  voice  in  torrents 
of  oratory  and  appeals  to  sentiment;  in  the  passionate 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

reasoning  of  Mirabeau;  Danton's  biting  and  fiery 
diatribes  and  the  acrid  invocations  of  Marat; 
Robespierre's  uncompromising  enunciations  of  princi- 
ples and  Saint-Just's  tirades,  saturated  with  sensibility. 
It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  the  momentum  of  ideas, 
let  loose  in  this  torrent  of  words,  submerged  the  old 
landmarks  of  thought  and  action  in  a  welter  of  confu- 
sion out  of  which  Napoleon  was  needed  to  wrest  nrdftr. 
That  he  succeeded  was  due  to  his  possessing  in  a  marked 
degree  the  potent  qualities  of  his  race.  He  was  an 
artist.  with  a  genius  for  architectonics.  Gifted  with  a 
ccjnjnandjof.  language,  as  distinguished  by  logical  de- 
cision as  by  picturesqueness  and  wit^  he  appealed  to  the 
imagination  oFTiis  countrymen  and  backed  up  his  io=_ 
spiration  with  organization!  He  replaced  chaos  with 
order  and  private  aj^tytion  with  patriotism  ;  g 
for  vague__generaKtifis  of  "Liberty, 


Equality,"  the  concrete  facts  of  a  France  united,  and 
once  more  paramount  in  the  counsels  of  Europe^  and 
satisfied  the  taste~of  his  countrymen  for  herpj^worship 
and  faith  in  the  Roman  tradition  by  accepting  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  an  Emperor.  Moreover,  in 
this  character  he  played  the  high  Roman  role  of  a  con- 
structor. While,  toward  other  countries  he  acted  the 
destroyer;  at  home  he  was  a  great  builder;  not  of 
aqueducts,  baths  and  amphitheaters,  but  of  a  nation  and 
national  character,  under  a  codifigd  system  of  law, 
modeled  on  that  of  the  Roman  Emperor,  Justinian. 
With  an  eye  for  the  capacity  of  every  man,  he  showed 
special  favor  to  David,  as  the  head  of  official  authority 
and  organized  system  in  the  Fine  Arts.  For  David  is 


Q 

so 
i— i 

t3 
O 
i-J 
02 
W 
P 
Of 


\ 


REVOLUTION 

said  to  have  had  as  many  as  four  hundred  pupils,  with 
whom  his  relations  were  so  cordial  that  he  bound  them 
heart  and  soul  to  the  principles  of  classicalism.  The 
result  was  a  unifying  and  strengthening  of  the  Academy 
of  Painting  and  Sculpture,  which  has  enabled  it  to 
maintain  its  prestige  as  the  official  bureau  of  the  Fine 
Arts,  not  only  for  France,  but  through  its  schools  for 
the  rest  of  the  civilized  world.  To  this  day  the  Acad- 
emy and  its  Ecole  are  the  strongholds  of  tradition  and 
authority  and  the  dispensers  of  official  patronage. 
Meanwhile,  the  Active,  elements  of  the  story  of  French 
painting  during  the  nineteenth  century  represent  revolt 
agalnsi  the  tenets  of  Academic  classicalism. 

For  it  is  a  significant  fact  that  the  first  fruits  of  the 
Revolution,  so  far  as  art  is  concerned,  were  the  very 
opposite  of  what  the  political  ano^social  conditions  would 
seem  to  have  demanded.  The  Revolution  had  been 
directed  against  privilege  and  on  behalf  of  the  rights 
nf  mq,p,  that  is  to  say,  of  individualism  ;  whereas  the 
result  in  the  domainof_arl_  was  collectivism  in  defense 


of  priyilpge.  The  immediate  and  continuing  effect  of 
the  upheaval  was  to  release_  the  jndividual  and  foster 
g  •  but  the  cjsjcalisn  of  David 


was  founded  upon  the  impersonal.  "The  highest 
beauty  is  that  which  is  proper  neither  to  this  person  nor 
to  that."  It  was  based  on  form;  that  is  to  say  upon 
externals  and  upon  the  latter  without  reference  to  color. 
It  ajmecLat  coordinated  perfection^  a  norm  of  beauty^ 
Avoiding  the  ijregularities  and  accidents  of  personality. 
It  made,  at  its  best,  for  §tyj.e  instead  of  cji 


In  establishing  these  ideals  and  a  system  to  main- 

£97] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

tain  them  the  French  were  true  to  their  racial  genius 
for  logic  and  organization.  The  only  premise_on  which 
it  is  possible  to  base  a  system  of  instruct.ion-.in  the  Fine 
Arts  is  that  of  form.  Color  is  too  much  a  matter^of 
tejtnperamejit  and  individual  fejgUng  to  be  reduced  to  a 
science  and  regulated  by  compygl|pq^ive  methods.  "Nor 
can  the  subjective  attitude  be  permitted  toward  form. 
That  would  be  to  substitute  the  exceptional  for  the  norm. 
Form  must  be  studied  objectively  in  r^efgience  to  a 
standard,  outside  oneself.  What  standard  can  be  better 
than  the  generaJizeiL  type  evolved  by  the  Greeks  and 
Romans?  And  here  again  the  French  were  true  to  the 
Roman  tradition  of  their  race.  The  Romans  were  not 
originators  in  the  domain  of  the  Fine  Arts.  They  took 
their  .models  from  the  Greeks,  modified  them  to  their  own 
needs  and  so  organized  the  rfrnjodncjion  of  them,  that 
the  work  could  be  effectively  done  by  skilled  craftsmen. 
Similarly  the  French  system  has  diffused  a  skill  of 
craftsmanship  throughout  the  whole  nation,  the  influence 
of  which  is  not  confined  to  the  higher  departments  of 
literature,  drama,  painting,  sculpture  and  architecture 
but  extends  into  all  the  minorjajanches  of  intellectual 
and  artistic  production. 

It  has  aj£eete4-even  the  independent  spirits  who  have 
broken  away  from  the  system  and  developed  their  per- 
sonality in  directions  opposed  to  its  principles.  They, 
too,  in  their  cgvoji,  exhibit  an  instinctive  regardJ-QiLJogic 
and  a  certain  architectonic  force  and  classical  jrestiaini 
which  distinguish  them  as  Frenchmen.  Meanwhile  the 
Academy  has  shown  an  aptitude  to  in^dify_itsjclassi£al- 
ism  and  in  a  measure  to  accommodate  its  traditional 

[98T 


REVOLUTION 

policy  to  outside  suggestions.  For  around  this  Bastile 
of  the  arts,  as  its  opponents  have  regarded  it,  or  this 
beleaguered  acropolis,  as  it  has  appeared  to  its  stanch 
defenders,  war  has  surged  throughout  the  nineteenth 
century.  With  an  ardor  of  conviction  and  fierceness  of 
onslaught  such  as  only  Frenchmen  can  import  into 
artistic  conflicts,  since  they  are  artists  by  nature  of  their 
race  and  therefore  must  perforce  be  vitally  in  earnest, 
the  Academy  has  waged  battle  successively  with  Roman- 
ticism, Naturalism,  Realism  and  Impressionism. 

•  ••••••• 

Early  in  the  century  David  abandoned  the  austerity 
of  his  Roman  method  for  the  sjupejior-gxaee  and  refine- 
mentof  the  Greek  models.  But  his  designs  for  furni- 
ture and  costumes  in  the  so-called  Empire  style,  his 
Rape  of  the  Sdbine  Women  and  Portrait  of  Madame  Re- 
camier  (p.  97)  are  alike  affected  by  a  cold  and  formal 
precision.  They  have  nothing  in  them  of  G 


or  of  the  ardorjthat  was  fermenting  in  the  new  France. 
Madame  Recamier,  who  was  as  conscious  of  her  sway 
over  male  hearts  as  of  being  the  intellectual  leader  of 
a  salon,  turned  to  Baron  Francois  Pascal  Gerard 
(1770-1837)  who,  though  a  pupil  of  David,  proved 
more  gracious  than  his  master  toward  his  fair  sitter's 
particular  charms  of  femininity.  It  is,  in  fact,  through 
his  portraits  that  Gerard's  reputation  has  survived;  for 
his  historical  subjects  were  stagey  and  his  Greek  pictures 
insipid.  The  finest  exponent  of  this  Greek  reaction 
was  Pierre  Prud'hon  (1758-1823)  . 

Prud'hon,  beside  being  a  student  of  Greek  sculpture 
and  drawing  some  of  his  subjects  from  Greek  myth- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

ology,  spent  some  time  in  Italy  where  he  felt  especially 
the  influence  of  Da  Vinci,  Correggio  and  Canova.  But 
it  was  the  Gallic  in  him  which  determined  his  particular 
style.  For  in  it  lives  again  the  spirit  of  the  Rococo; 
the  dainty  grace  of  Watteau,  tinged  with  poetic  melan- 
choly, only  clothed  in  classic  draperies;  the  allurement 
of  Boucher,  but  impregnated  with  the  seriousness  of  pas- 
sion. For  Prud'hon's  life  was  a  sad  one,  embarrassed 
until  toward  its  close  with  poverty,  and  embittered  by 
an  unfortunate  early  marriage.  Yet  the  breath  of 
most  of  his  pictures  is  that  of  eternal  youth.  Only  an 
imagination  still  fresh  with  the  ecstasy  of  youth  could 
have  conceived  the  exquisite  figure  of  the  maiden  in  the 
Rape  of  Psyche.  Like  his  other  masterpieces,  Justice 
and  Vengeance  Pursuing  Crime,  Venus  and  Adonis  and 
The  Swinging  Zephyr,  it  was  painted  during  his  attach- 
ment to  Constance  Mayer,  who  occupied  a  studio  ad- 
joining his  in  the  Sorbonne.  The  allegorical  subject, 
Justice,  won  the  attention  of  Napoleon  who  commis- 
sioned the  artist  to  execute  the  Portrait  of  the  Empress 
Josephine;  now  in  the  Louvre,  where  it  may  be  compared, 
to  its  manifest  advantage,  with  the  portraits  alluded 
to  above,  by  David  and  Gerard.  After  the  death  of 
Constance  by  her  own  hand  Prud'hon,  broken  utterly 
in  spirit,  survived  but  two  years,  during  which  he 
painted  his  only  religious  subjects:  The  Assumption 
of  the  Virgin  and  the  Crucifixion.  These,  like  all  his 
pictures,  have  been  blackened  by  time.  He  also  fin- 
ished The  Unfortunate  Family  which  had  been  begun 
by  Constance  Mayer.  He  is  buried  beside  his  lady  of 
love  and  sorrow  in  the  cemetery  of  Pere-Lachaise. 


PORTRAIT  OF  MADAME  RECAMIER 

FRANCOIS  PASCAL  GERARD 

LOUVRE 


REVOLUTION 

Prud'hon,  and,  in  a  minor  degree,  Gerard  and  Anne 
Louis  Girodet  (1767-1824),  represent  the  first  dawning 
light  of  the  hot  day  of  Romanticism  which  was  soon 
to  kindle  the  ardor  of  the  young  generation.  Before 
considering  it  we  may  delay  for  a  moment  and  consider 
its  jgreat  opponent.  Jean  Angmste  pp™injrp7g  Ingres 
(1280^1867). 

When  the  struggle  began  Ingres  had  already  reached 
middle_age.  But  he  was  of  the  kind  who  are  born  old 
and  make_up  for  thejack  of  miagination_and  youthfuL 
freshness  bv  indomitable  patience  and  perseverance. 
He  was  David's  most  distinguished  pupil,  though  he  in- 
curred the  master's  ire  by  mollifying  the  strictness  of 
classicalism  with  a  mingling  of  the  Italian^  particularly 
of  RapKael.  Hence,  at  first,  his  work  was  rejected  at 
the  Salon.  But  he  clung  to  his  "heresy":'  "I  count 
upon  my  old  age,"  he  said;  "it  will  av^nye me."  "~  And  it 
did  most  amply,  for  Ingres  became  the  acknowledged 
champion  of  the  Academic.  To  his  students  he  enforced 
the  doctrine,  "fprip  fa  everything.  cn]nr  is  nothing" ;  and 
when  he  guided  them  around  the  Luxembourg  and  they 
reached  the  Rubens  Gallery,  he  would  say,  "Saluez, 
messieurs,  mais  ne  regardez  pas"  The  caliber  of  his 
mind  was  small,  but  its  ,grasp  of  the  science  of  drawing 
and  composition,  so  elaborated,  by  persistent  effort  that, 
however  cold  one  may  feel  toward  his  work  in  general, 
certain  examples  of  it  arouse  enthusiasm.  These  are 
scarcely  to  be  found  among  his  costume  subjects  or 
religious  pictures ;  but,  on  the  one  hand,  among  the  clas- 
sical subjects  and,  on  the  other,  among  his  portraits. 
His  CEdipus  and  the  Sphinx,  notwithstanding  the  un- 

[101 3 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

pleasant  color,  exercises  a  strange  fascination,  due  ap- 
parently to  its  subtle—blend  of  the  concrete  and 
the  abstract.  The  figure  of  the  youth,  as  he  in- 
terrogates the  oracle,  has  all  the  ^fl^p  ^f  y  01  ing. 
manhood  in  the  pjia»t  —  ¥iger  of  the  limbs,  yet 
the  pallpr  of  the  flesh  which  is  nof  that  of  lifp 
imparts  an  abstraction  to  the  form  that  removes  it 
into  an  jdoofiiefis  from  human  suggestion.  More 
human  is  the  ffjjj's  mide  figure  in  The~£nurce:  as  she 
stands  fronting  us  with  raised  arms,  supporting  a  pitcher 
on  her  shoulder.  And  the  pose-throughout  is  one  of 
—  Yet  the  expression  of  *T™»  W1HP  is  ab- 


stract ;  it  is  the  blossoming-  lQvnHnnr.ri.xif  g-jrlfrnnrl  that 
is  rendered,  pure  of  ajTjef  erepcp  to  the  personal.  The 
secret  of  the  spell  that  it  exerts  is  that  the  lure  of  life 
has  been  translated  into  lines,  of  Acaxlemic  perfection; 
and  that  color,  wliicii4fr4i£e,  plays  no  part  in  the  con- 
ception or  expression.  One  may  discover  the  truth  of 
this  by  comparing  the  Odalesque  Bathing  with  Manet's 
Olympia,  which  are  now  hanging  in  the  same  gallery  in 
the  Louvre.  The  Ingres  again  allures  by  its  beauty  of 
line  and  mass,  until  one  turns  to  the  Manet,  which, 
though  you  may  not  care  for  the  character  of  the  sub- 
ject, excels  the  other  in  distinction  by  reason  of  the  liv- 
ing quality  of  its  color  scheme.  The  woman  of  Manet's 
picture  is  weedy  and  anemic,  while  the  Odalesque  is 
amply  and  wholesomely  formed;  so  that  the  expression 
of  life  in  the  former  is  less  a  matter  of  personality  than 
of  the  artist's  vision  and  use  of  color. 

Among  the  portraits  by  Ingres  in  the  Louvre  the 
finest  is   that   of  Madame  Riviere    (p.    109),   which 

1102-2 


REVOLUTION 

again  fascinates  by  the  exquisite  elaboration  of  its  lineal 
composition.  Nor  is  it  destitute  of  color  charm;  the 
dress  cream;  the  Indian  shawl,  embroidered  in  dull  red 
and  green;  the  cushions  blue;  a  carefully  organized 
scheme  of  color  pattern.  On  the  other  hand,  the  well- 
known  Portrait  of  M.  $ertin.  editor  of  Le  Journal  des 
Debats,  because  of  the  inertness  of  its  flesh-color,  shows 
to  better  advantage  in  black  and  white  reproduction  than 
in  the  original.  For  there  it  counts  purely  as  form,  so 
that  nothing  impairs  the  stolid  force  of  character  ex- 
pressed in  this  very  representative  personage  of  the 
bourgeois  era. 

The  merit  of  these  and  other  portraits  by  Ingres 
has  tended  to  divert  attention  from  his  excellence  in 
other  subjects,  and  it  is  only  beginning  to  be  realized 
that  Ingres  is  a  great  master  of  the  French  School. 
For  the  Jbrce  outside  the  Academy  which  he  combated 
was  born  of  the  needs  and  conditions  of  the  time  and  it 
.submerged  his  influence  and  the  memory  of  him  in  its 
overwhelming  torrent.  Meanwhile,  in  these  later  days 
a  reaction  has  set  in,  with  the  result  that  the  reputation 
of  Ingres  is  coming  back  into  its  own. 

The  whole  matter  resolves  itself  around  the  eternal 
"5plfiation_pf  the  rela^JQn,  ftf  ftH:  tn  lif  p.  Ingres  upheld  the 
superiority  of  art  to  life  to  an  extent  that  almost  implied 
of  *h^  nnf  fyp"  the  -other.  To-day  we 


are  discovering  that  painting  has  reached  the  opposite 
that  in  its  rendering  of  life  it  has  well-nigh 


achieved  its  separation  from  art.     Hence,  pending  some 
between  art  and  life,  between  the 


claims  of  the  q^ctrgot  anrl  tlm  concrete,  interest  has  been 

D03] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

revived,  in  the  Acadejiiie-^ompromise,  so  masterfully 
achieved  by  Ingres. 

Meanwhile,  looking  back,  one  sees  that  he  was  erect- 
ing a  dam  to  stem  the  living  gnrr^*  "f  ^°  gff**  The 
xwater  was  brimming  with  life,  swollen  with  pa^y^s*  a 
torrent  of  hmrmn  energy,  let  loose  by  the  Revolution, 
following  the_direction  of  its  own  jnojnentum,  compelled 
to  sejf;^^!^^©!!.^  For  the  time  being  at  least,  the  cold, 
^alciilfltjflg.  impersonal  art  of  Ingres  could  noft  yafl 
against  this  force  of  nature,  represented  in  the  outburst 
of  personal,  individualized  energy.  The  conscious  sense 
of  lifejiad  been  newly  awakened  with  all  the  glory  of 
its  possibilities  and  the  ynm^ger  generation  01  artists 
was  necessarily  in  revolt  against  Academic  restrictions, 
as  against  all  other  official  contrivances  for  shackling 
the  Hberty^of  the_spjrit.  Inevitable,  therefore,  was  the 
Revolution  of  the  Men  of  1830. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LES  VAILLANTS   DE  DIX-HUIT-CENT-TRENTE 

A  VERY  usual  mistake  is  made  of  applying  the 
title,  The  Men  of  1830,  exclusively  to  the 
painters  of  the  Barbizon  group;  apparently 
from  the  notion  that  this  represents  the  date  at  which 
they  settled  in  that  village.  But  Rousseau  did  not  visit 
the  Forest  of  Fontainebleau  until  1833,  while  it  was  at 
the  Salon  of  1831  that  the  men,  afterwards  so  famous  as 
a  group,  first  attracted  notice  by  their  landscapes.  The 
phrase,  actually  coined  to  designate  the  band  of  literary 
artists  who  under  the  leadership  of  Victor  Hugo  were 
hurling  defiance  at  classicalism,  refers  to  that  memor- 
able night,  February  25,  1830,  when  Hugo's  Hernani 
was  produced  for  the  first  time,  and  the  rival  partizans  of 
the  Academy  and  Romanticism  came  to  blows  in  the 
theater.  Five  months  later  occurred  the  July  Revolu- 
tion of  1830,  which  drove  into  exile  Louis  XVIII,  the 
last  of  the  Bourbon  kings.  Thus  the  phrase  had  an  ad- 
ditional significance  of  revolt  and  came  to  be  applied 
broadly  to  all  the  fervent  spirits  in  literature  and  paint- 
ing who  had  fought  the  battle  of  individualism  against 
the  paralyzing  restrictions  of  official  dogmatism.  They 
were,  as  Theophile  Gautier  styled  them  in  one  of  his 
poems,  Les  Vaillants  de  dix-huit-cent-trente. 

One  of  the  phenomena  of  the  French  Revolution  is 

[105  3 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

that  within  the  space  of  only  twelve  years,  1789-1802, 
the  old  institutions  had  fallen  and  society  was  already 
being  reconstructed  on  a  new  basis.  This  is  to  be  ex- 
plained by  the  fact  that  preparations  for  the  new  were 
already  in  progress  before  the  downfall  of  the  old. 
Thus,  in  the  case  of  Romanticism,  the  torch  had  been 
lighted  by  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  and  was  carried  for- 
ward by  Chateaubriand  (1768-1848)  and  Madame  de 
Stael  (1776-1813).  Chateaubriand's  autobiographical 
novel,  "Rene,"  published  in  1802,  reveals  him  akin  to 
Werther  and  to  Byron — a  prey  to  ennui  and  bitter  self- 
analysis.  "My  mind,"  he  writes,  "while  made  to  believe 
in  nothing,  not  even  in  myself;  to  despise  all  things, 
honors,  misery,  kings  and  peoples,  is  yet  dominated  by 
an  instinct  of  reason  which  commands  it  to  reverence 
whatever  is  beautiful,  such  as  religion,  justice,  human- 
ity, liberty  and  glory."  Converted  from  infidelity  by 
his  mother,  he  wrote  "The  Genius  of  Christianity,"  "a 
prose-poem  which  by  a  series  of  picturesque  and  pathetic 
images  awoke  all  the  vague  religious  feeling  that  slum- 
bered in  the  souls  of  men."  He  also  embodied  in  several 
books  the  impressions  derived  from  his  extensive  travels, 
which  included  a  visit  to  America,  1791-1792.  The  de- 
scriptions of  nature  which  form  the  background  of  all 
his  writings  are  impregnated  with  subjective  feeling. 
As  M.  Lebon  says,  "no  writer  has  ever  painted  more 
faithfully  or  poetically  the  all-compelling,  somber  or 
gracious  spell  of  the  night,  the  solemnity  of  primeval 
forests  and  prairies,  the  misty  skies  of  Germany,  the 
sunlight  of  Italy,  the  loveliness  of  Greek  mountains  or 
the  varied  colors  of  Arab  encampments."  Moreover,  in 

[106  3 


LES  VAILLANTS 

his  "Genius  of  Christianity,"  Chateaubriand  inculcated 
new  artistic  ideals;  the  abandonment  of  conventional, 
vexatious  rules  for  liberty  of  spirit;  the  interpretation 
of  the  grandeur  and  the  beauty  of  nature  and  the  ex- 
pression of  real  emotion  in  place  of  depicting  drawing- 
room  manners  and  mythological  scenes.  Under  his  in- 
fluence writers  turned  for  inspiration  to  Shakespeare, 
Scott,  Schiller  and  Goethe,  whose  works  began  to  be 
translated  into  French;  and  to  the  Bible,  Gothic  art, 
medievalism  and  history  in  general. 

The  influence  of  Madame  de  Stael  complemented  that 
of  Chateaubriand.  In  her  novel,  "Corinne,"  published  in 
the  same  year  as  the  latter's  "Rene,"  and  in  "Delphine" 
(1807)  she  also  indulges  in  the  personal  note  and  proves 
herself  to  be  sentimental  and  romantic.  On  the  other 
hand  her  main  characteristic  is  that  of  a  thinker.  In 
her  "Literature  considered  in  its  relation  to  Social  In- 
stitutions" she  declared,  "The  object  of  literature  is  no 
longer  to  be,  as  in  the  eighteenth  century,  merely  the 
art  of  writing;  it  is  to  be  the  art  of  thinking,  and  the 
standard  of  literary  greatness  will  be  found  in  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization."  She  broke  away  from  the  old 
method  of  criticism  which  merely  searched  for  beauties 
and  defects,  and  substituted  as  a  basis  the  examination 
of  a  work  of  art  in  relation  to  the  circumstances  of  its 
time  and  the  psychology  of  its  author.  In  fact,  to  quote 
M.  Lanson,  "Madame  de  Stael  furnished  the  Roman- 
ticists with  ideas,  theories  and  a  method  of  criticism: 
Chateaubriand  gave  them  an  ideal,  desire  and  the  means 
of  enjoying  them.  The  woman  defined  where  the  man 
realized." 

£107  ] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

The  most  brilliant  of  the  younger  band  who  were 
more  or  less  directly  inspired  by  these  two  writers  com- 
prised Victor  Hugo,  Alfred  de  Vigny,  Lamartine,  Al- 
fred de  Musset,  Saint-Beuve,  Theophile  Gautier,  Ber- 
anger  and  the  historians  Thierry,  Guizot  and  Michelet, 
who  transformed  the  historical  method  by  infusing  into 
it  life  and  color.  For  life  in  its  infinite,  colorful  variety 
of  experience  and  sensations,  set  against  the  color  of 
surrounding  nature  and  conditions,  was  the  theme  which 
variously  occupied  these  diverse  minds.  As  the  doc- 
trines of  Romanticism  were  formulated  by  Victor  Hugo 
in  the  preface  to  his  drama,  Cromwell  (1827),  it  aimed 
to  rejuvenate  art  by  giving  it  a  new  dress  and  a  new 
coloring,  to  represent  human  nature  with  its  real  pas- 
sions and  weaknesses,  to  seek  a  background  for  emo- 
tions in  the  world  of  nature  and  to  give  local  and  histori- 
cal truth  to  the  heroes  of  the  drama. 

Of  this  atmosphere  so  charged  with  revolt  from 
classical  tradition  and  with  ideals  of  the  future,  it  would 
have  been  strange  if  painters  had  escaped  the  influence. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  early  in  the  century  they  became 
participators  of  the  general  impulse.  Even  David 
yielded  a  little  to  it  when  he  painted  his  masterpiece, 
The  Coronation  of  Napoleon  in  Notre-Dame,  now  hang- 
ing in  the  Louvre.  This  canvas  of  superlative  magnif- 
icence does  more  than  extol  the  pride  of  the  Emperor. 
It  is  no  mere  official  emblazoning  of  an  autocrat's  glori- 
fication, as  were  the  state  canvases  of  the  Grand  Mon- 
arch. It  represents  also  the  exultation  of  a  nation, 
glorying  in  its  newly  awakened  life  and  the  grandeur 
of  its  possibilities. 


PORTRAIT  OF 
MADAME  RIVIERE 


JEAN  AUGUSTE  DOMINIQUE  INGRES 
LOUVRE 


LES  VAILLANTS 

But  the  painter  who  directly  marks  the  transition  to- 
ward Romanticism  is  one  of  David's  pupils,  Baron  An- 
toine  Jean  Gros  (1771-1835).  He  accompanied  the 
French  army  during  the  campaign  in  Italy,  and  attracted 
the  notice  of  Napoleon,  then  General  Bonaparte,  who 
after  he  had  become  Emperor  commissioned  him  to  paint 
the  large  pictures  in  the  Louvre,  representing  Bona- 
parte on  the  Bridge  at  Arcola,  Bonaparte  visiting  the 
Plague-stricken  at  Jaffa  and  Napoleon  at  Eylau.  In 
these  Gros  abandoned  the  bas-relief  compositions  of 
impersonal  antique  figures  in  heroic  postures  for  per- 
sonages of  the  day,  individually  characterized  and 
grouped  with  reference  to  the  actions  of  the  drama  in 
which  they  are  engaged.  The  coloring  is  no  longer  that 
of  tinted  marble,  but  has  qualities  of  esthetic  appeal. 
In  their  expression  of  the  emotions,  aroused  by  the  hor- 
ror and  glory  of  war,  these  pictures  are  a  foretaste  of  the 
storm  and  stress  of  Romanticism.  In  their  record  of 
events  actually  witnessed  or  imagined  as  the  result  of 
visual  experience  they  anticipate  "the  Realistic  motive, 
while  their  tribute  to  the  Emperor  sets  the  key  for  the 
Napoleonic  legend  which  the  imagination  of  Frenchmen 
was  weaving  around  the  national  hero.  The  younger 
generation  recognized  in  Gros  an  inspiration.  He  had, 
in  fact,  all  the  qualities  of  a  leader  save  belief  in  his  own 
convictions.  He  could  never  free  himself  from  the 
trammels  of  David's  authority.  The  old  master  remon- 
strated with  him  for  painting  these  "worthless  occasional 
pieces."  "Posterity  requires  of  you,"  urged  David, 
"good  pictures  out  of  ancient  history.  'Who/  she  will 
cry,  'was  better  fitted  to  paint  Themistocles  ?'  Quick, 

[109] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

my  friend,  turn  to  your  Plutarch."  Gros'  faith  in  him- 
self was  shaken.  Later  after  the  death  of  Girodet,  who 
with  Pierre  Narcisse  Guerin  (1744-1833)  had  succeeded 
to  the  leadership  of  David,  he  yielded  to  the  entreaties 
of  the  Academicians  that  he  should  head  their  fight 
against  the  hot-brained  foes  of  classicalism.  Yet  he 
recognized  the  anomaly  of  his  position.  "I  have  not 
only  no  authority  as  leader  of  a  school,"  he  said,  "but, 
over  and  above  that,  I  have  to  accuse  myself  of  giving 
the  first  bad  example  of  defection  from  real  art." 
Gradually  his  own  pictures  became  paralyzed  by  the  dead 
hand  of  classicalism,  until  in  1835  appeared  the  weari- 
some rhodomontade  of  Hercules  Causing  Diomedes  to 
be  Devoured  by  his  own  Horses.  It  was  ridiculed  alike 
by  artists  and  the  critics.  Gros  was  overcome  with  de- 
spair. What  he  knew  to  be  his  natural  temperament  he 
had  sacrificed  to  what  he  supposed  to  be  his  duty.  And 
in  vain.  The  flood  of  Romanticism  was  now  at  full  tide 
and  his  efforts  to  stem  it  had  overwhelmed  him  in  humil- 
iation. He  drowned  himself  in!  the  Seine. 

Meanwhile,  the  note  sounded  by  Gros  in  his  earlier 
days  had  been  repeated  in  a  triple  blast  by  Theodore 
Gericault  (1791-1824),  who  thus  became  the  actual 
leader  of  the  younger  generation.  Like  Delacroix  he 
served  his  apprenticeship  in  Guerin's  studio.  But  he 
had  no  use  for  the  master's  tame  and  elegant  classical- 
ism. A  sturdy  son  of  Normandy,  he  had  grown  up  near 
the  sea,  prone  to  seriousness  and  nourishing  a  passionate 
nature  on  the  elemental  force  and  movement  of  wave 
and  sky.  Expressions  of  these  qualities  he  found  at 

'Dion 


LES  VAILLANTS 

first  in  horses,  encouraged  thereto  by  a  short  experience 
in  the  studio  of  Horace  Vernet  (1789-1863) ,  painter  of 
battle  scenes.  In  1812  he  sent  to  the  Salon  An  Officer 
of  the  Chasseur-Guards,  the  portrait  of  a  M.  Dieu- 
donne :  the  figure  seen  against  a  lofty  sky,  mounted  on  a 
rearing  charger  and  brandishing  a  saber.  It  was  fol- 
lowed two  years  later  by  The  Wounded  Cuirassier,  who, 
grasping  the  bridle  of  his  horse,  is  slowly  dragging  his 
body  from  the  battlefield.  The  design  and  character  of 
the  former  may  have  been  suggested  by  the  central  fig- 
ure of  Napoleon  in  The  Battle  of  the  Pyramids  by  Gros ; 
but  the  latter,  in  its  direct  and  telling  expression  of  pain 
and  simple  appeal  to  sympathetic  emotion,  had  the  shock 
of  novelty,  which  acted  upon  the  younger  men  like  a  call 
to  arms.  They  gathered  around  this  youth  of  twenty- 
one  and  looked  up  to  him  as  a  leader.  Delacroix,  his 
junior  by  some  years,  was  among  those  who  posed  for  his 
next  picture,  The  Raft  of  the  Medusa,  which  was  shown 
in  1821.  The  survivors  of  the  wreck  have  been  floating 
aimlessly  without  food  or  water  for  twelve  days;  the 
original  one  hundred  and  fifty  have  been  reduced  to 
fifteen:  they  are  in  the  last  stages  of  exhaustion;  one 
already  a  corpse ;  but  a  passing  sail  has  been  sighted,  and 
a  sailor  and  negro,  more  hardy  than  the  rest,  are  waving 
their  shirts  to  attract  attention.  To  the  cool  and  col- 
lected spectator  of  to-day  the  traces  of  classical  artifice 
are  still  apparent  in  the  pyramidal  design  of  the  compo- 
sition and  the  reliance  on  nude  figures.  In  the  coloring 
of  the  latter  he  will  note  also  a  prevalence  of  brown. 
Yet,  if  we  try  to  put  ourselves  into  the  position  of  the 
young  artists  of  the  period,  thrilling  with  the  enthusiasm 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

of  their  modern  life,  conscious  of  passionate  yearnings 
and  yet  cribbed,  cabined  and  confined  in  the  meshes  of  a 
frigid  convention,  devoted  to  nerveless  expositions  of  the 
past,  it  is  not  difficult  to  realize  the  amazing  revelation 
of  this  picture.  In  importance  it  represents  Gericault's 
masterpiece,  although  The  Race  for  the  Derby  is  techni- 
cally finer  and  involves  a  still  further  audacity  of  innova- 
tion. Shortly  after  his  return  from  England,  where  he 
had  painted  this  picture,  Gericault  was  injured  in  the 
spine  by  a  fall  from  his  horse.  He  lingered  for  two 
years  and  then  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  before  he 
had  time  to  realize  the  full  measure  of  his  genius.  His 
mantle  fell  upon  Delacroix. 

•  •••••• 

Ferdinand  Victor  Eugene  Delacroix  (1798-1863) 
was  to  Romanticism  in  painting  what  Victor  Hugo  was 
to  its  expression  in  literature:  an  undisputed  leader,  on 
whom  the  hatred  of  outraged  Academicalism  was  con- 
centrated. Yet  he  had  nothing  of  Hugo's  stoutness  of 
physical  fiber,  being  a  man  of  feeble  constitution  and  in- 
clined, like  Alfred  de  Musset,  to  sickliness  of  soul.  Nor 
had  he  the  shifting  violence  of  Hugo's  temperament. 
He  possessed  a  clear  and  logical  intellect  that,  on  the 
one  hand,  compelled  him  to  base  his  art  on  scientific 
study  of  the  qualities  of  color  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
could  challenge  his  adversaries  with  pen  as  well  as  with 
the  masterpieces  of  his  brush.  He  made  his  appear- 
ance in  the  arena  in  1822  with  Dante's  Bark.  Like 
David's  Oath  of  the  Horatii,  it  is  an  epoch-making 
picture  and  has  been  justly  called  "the  first  characteris- 
tic painting  of  the  new  century." 


MASSACRE  OF  CHIOS  EUGENE  DELACROIX 

LOUVRE 


LES  VAILLANTS 

Who  does  not  recall  the  subject?  Charon's  bare 
back  straining  as  he  drives  his  crazy  boat  through  the 
greenish  blue  water,  churned  into  foam  by  the  con- 
tortions of  the  damned  to  whom  Heaven  and  Hell  are 
alike  closed;  Dante,  awe-struck,  and  tottering  in  his 
balance;  Virgil,  whose  shade  has  passed  beyond  human 
emotion,  poised  and  calm;  the  fires  of  Phlegethron 
smoldering  in  the  distance.  It  is  still  pyramidal  in 
composition,  with  recourse  to  the  expedient  of  the  nude ; 
yet  it  passes  far  ahead  of  The  Raft  of  the  Medusa  in 
physiognomical  expression  and  in  the  imagination 
which  has  realized  the  varieties  of  individual  torment. 
The  distinction  of  this  picture,  however,  rests  chiefly  on 
its  use  of  color.  Color  once  more  has  been  restored 
to  painting.  It  has  become  a  medium  of  emotional 
expression  and  has  asserted  its  supremacy  over  the 
strictly  modeled  outline  of  the  school  of  draftsmanship 
and  marbleized  painting.  Well  might  the  veteran, 
David,  exclaim,  "D'oii  vient-il?  Je  ne  connais  pas 
cette  touche  Id/'  This  youngster  had  taken  a  classical 
theme  but  had  made  it  live  to  the  modern  imagination. 
More  than  that,  he  had  joined  hands  with  Watteau 
and  the  finest  spirits  of  the  eighteenth  century  in  mental 
admiration  of  Rubens  and  the  latter 's  adjustment  to 
Northern  art  of  the  glories  of  Venetian  painting. 
Through  the  example  of  Delacroix,  who  is  said  to  have 
devoted  the  first  half  hour  of  each  day  to  drawing 
from  Rubens,  the  Flemish  artist  became  again  the  fer- 
tilizer of  French  art. 

But  where  there  is  really  life  there  is  always  move- 
ment forward  and  Delacroix's  next  picture,  the  Mas- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

sacre  of  Chios,  exhibited  in  1824,  passes  beyond  the 
Rubens  influence  in  the  fact  that  it  commemorates  the 
emotion  of  the  artist's  own  time.  To  a  nation,  vibrat- 
ing with  the  trumpet  call  of  Liberty,  the  heroic  struggle 
of  the  Greeks  for  freedom  could  not  fail  of  a  response. 
It  had  been  fired  also  by  the  poetry  and  example  of 
Lord  Byron,  one  of  the  high  priests  in  the  hierarchy 
of  the  French  Romanticists.  That  his  death  had  oc- 
curred at  Missalonghi  in  the  April  preceding  the  Salon 
of  1824  was  a  coincidence  which  must  have  added  to 
the  sensation  aroused  by  Delacroix's  picture. 

But  the  latter  represents  also  a  technical  advance 
beyond  the  Dante's  Bark.  Its  composition  has  ex- 
changed geometrical  formality  for  an  organized  ir- 
regularity of  grouping  and  the  color  scheme  also  is 
more  highly  organized,  more  subtle  and  splendid. 
Instead  of  the  murk  of  color  which  is  fittingly  char- 
acteristic of  the  other  subject,  the  human  horror  is  dis- 
played against  a  beautiful  golden  brown  landscape  and 
a  blue  sky,  radiant  with  luminosity.  Further,  there 
is  an  orchestration  of  tone  which  reveals  the  imagina- 
tion and  mastery  of  the  color-composer,  the  real  color- 
ist.  Delacroix  in  this  picture  had  already  surpassed 
all  previous  French  painters  in  emulating  the  splendors 
of  Rubens. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  in  this  picture  he  was 
stirred  to  emulation  of  Constable.  Gericault  had 
written  from  England,  "It  is  here  only  that  color  and 
effect  are  understood  and  felt";  and  at  the  Salon  of 
1824,  still  held  in  the  Louvre,  some  of  Constable's 
landscapes  were  shown.  They  made  so  powerful  an 


LES  VAILLANTS 

impression  on  Delacroix  that  at  the  last  moment,  while 
his  own  picture  hung  in  its  place,  he  added  some  touches 
to  enhance  its  brilliance  and  luminosity.  Later  he 
frequently  gave  expression  in  his  writings  to  the  in- 
spiration which  the  early  French  Romantic  movement 
owed  to  the  English  artist's  example. 

In  1825  Delacroix  visited  England,  studying  not 
only  British  painting  but  also  the  literature  and 
drama;  and  gaining  his  first  knowledge  of  "Faust" 
through  an  English  opera.  Three  years  later  he  pub- 
lished a  cycle  of  illustrations  to  accompany  a  French 
translation  of  the  poem  and  followed  it  up  with  a  series 
of  lithographs  of  Shakespearian  subjects. 

For,  as  Muther  points  out,  while  the  word  "Ro- 
mantic" as  first  used  in  Germany  was  equivalent  to 
"Roman,"  the  German  Romanticists  being  moved  to 
enthusiasm  for  Roman-Catholicism  and  Roman 
Church  painting,  the  term  in  France  had  an  exactly 
opposite  meaning.  It  implied  a  preference  for  the 
English  and  German  spirit,  as  compared  with  the 
Greek  and  Roman,  and  an  enthusiasm  for  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  and  German  poets,  Shakespeare  and  Goethe,  in 
whom,  as  contrasted  with  Racine's  correctness,  were 
to  be  found  unrestrained  genius  and  animated  passion. 

The  Bark  had  scandalized  the  Academy:  the  Mas- 
sacre infuriated  it.  Gros  called  it  the  "massacre  of 
painting":  others  prophesied  that  this  "dramatic  ex- 
pression and  composition  marked  by  action"  would 
wreck  the  "grand  style"  of  painting.  Even  its  beauty 
of  color  was  held  to  belong  to  an  inferior  kind  of  art, 
since  it  involved  the  sacrifice  of  the  contours  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

figures  and  was  based  upon  ugliness  of  form.  Dela- 
croix became,  and  continued  to  be  throughout  his  life, 
the  target  on  which  was  concentrated  the  envenomed 
arrows  of  Academic  criticism.  He  was  accused  of 
painting  with  a  drunken  broom  and,  since  his  birth- 
place was  Charenton,  the  site  of  a  state  lunatic  asylum, 
was  called  "the  runaway  of  Charenton."  No  painter, 
w^s  ever  so  loaded  with  gross  abuse.  He  was  sup- 
ported by  Thebphile^  Gautier,  'rhiers,  Victor  Hugo, 
Saint-Beuve,  Baudelaire,  Burger-Thore,  Gustave 
Planche  and  Paul  Mantz;  but  even  his  supporters 
caused  him  some  distress,  for  they  styled  him  the 
Hugo  of  painting  and  thrust  him  into  a  position  of 
radicalism  that  did  yiolence  to  his  own  regemirp  fru^the 
art  of  the  past.  Nor  did  his  own  temperament  per- 
mit him  to  rest  silent  under  all  this  opprobrium  and 
misrepresentation.  Jrail  of  physique.__sjc^  of  soul, 
and  during  the  latter  part  of  his  life  a  victim  to  com- 
plicated diseases,  he  was  drawn  into  a  conflict  which 
kept  his  flaming  imagination  continually  at  fever  heat. 
Yet  his  writings,  coritrTButed  to  the  Revue  des  Deux 
Mondes  are  models  of  criticism,  expressed  in  the  fine 
classical  style,  characteristic  of  his  admiration  for 
Racine. 

He  oonteqflfefl  -faf  «.  comprehension  of  art  not  limited 
to  the  beautiful  as  the  sole,,  supreme  end-,  but  admitting 
tfoe  claims  ofcharacter  and  emotion.  "This  famous 
thing,  the  beautiful,"  he  wrote,  "must  be — every  one 
says  so — the  first  aim  of  art.  But  if  it  be  the  only 
aim,  what  then  are  we  to  make  of  men  like  Rubens, 
Rembrandt  and  in  general  all  the  artistic  natures  of 


HONORE  DAUMIER 


LES  VAILLANTS 

the  North,  who  preferred  other  qualities  belonging  to 
their  art?  Is  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  that  impres- 
sion which  is  made  on  us  by  a  picture  by  Velasquez,  an 
etching  by  Rembrandt  or  a  scene  out  of  Shakespeare? 
Or  again,  is  the  beautiful  revealed  to  us  by  contempla- 
tion of  straight  noses  and  correctly  disposed  draperies 
of  Girodet,  Gerard  and  other  pupils  of  David.  A 
satyr  is  beautiful,  a  faun  is  beautiful.  The  antique 
bust  of  Socrates  is  full  of  character  notwithstanding 
its  flattened  nose,  its  swollen  lips  and  small  eyes.  In 
Paul  Veronese's  Marriage  at  Cana  I  see  men  of  various 
features  and  of  every  temperament  and  I  find  them 
to  be  living  beings,  full  of  passion.  Are  they  beau- 
tiful? Perhaps.  But  in  any  case  there  is  no  recipe 
by  means  of  which  one  can  attain  to  what  is  called 
the  ideally  beautiful.  Style  depends  absolutely  and 
solely  upon  the  free  arm  original  expression  of  each 
muster's  peculiar  qualities.  Whenever  a  painter  sets 
himself  to  follow  a  conventional  mode  of  expression, 
he  will  become  affected  and  will  lose  his  own  peculiar 
impress.  But  when,  on  the  contrary,  he  frankly  aban- 
dons himself  to  the  impulse  of  his  own  originality  he 
will  ever  be,  whether  his  name  be  Raphael,  Michel- 
angelo, Rubens  or  Rembrandt,  securely  master  of  his 
soul  and  of  his  art." 

A  turning-point  in  Delacroix's  life,  which  proved 
to  be  an  epoch  in  French  art,  came  in  1832,  when  he 
accompanied  an  embassy  to  the  Court  of  Morocco  and 
returned  home  by  way  of  Algiers  and  Spain.  The 
imagination  of  the  colorist  bathed  in  the  splendors  of 
southern  sunshine  and  broadened  its  vision  by  experi- 

[i  73 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

ence  of  the  colorful  picturesqueness  of  Oriental  life. 
He  writes  to  a  correspondent  of  the  "sublime  and  fas- 
cinating life."  "Think,  my  friend,  what  it  means  for 
a  painter  to  see  lying-  in  the  sunshine,  wandering  about 
the  streets  and  offering  shoes  for  sale,  men  who  have 
the  appearance  of  ancient  consuls,  of  the  revivified 
ghosts  of  Plato  and  Brutus,  and  who  do  not  lack  even 
that  proud,  discontented  look  which  those  lords  of  the 
earth  must  have  had.  They  possess  nothing  but  a 
blanket  in  which  they  walk,  sleep  and  are  buried,  and 
yet  they  look  as  dignified  as  Cicero  in  his  curule  chair. 
How  much  truth,  how  much  nobility  in  these  figures! 
There  is  nothing  more  beautiful  in  the  antique." 

Here  speaks  the  real  Jovgrof  the  antique,  who  recog- 
nizes the  eternal  verity  of  its  spirit;  as  contrasted  with 
the  attitudeof  classicalism~tEat  would  flatter  it  by 
imitation.  The  distinction  has  never  been  better  ex- 
pressed than  by  the  third  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  in  his 
forgotten  work,  "Characteristics  of  Man,  Matters, 
Opinions  and  Times,"  published  in  1711.  He  criti- 
cizes those  who  try  to  reproduce  the  iorm_mstead  of 
the  spirit  of  the  Classic  and  says,  "We  should  not  imi- 
tate but  emulate  the  Greeks,  for  we  shall  be  most 
like  the  Greeks  when  most  ourselves."  This  observa- 
tion is  applicable  to  Delacroix.  He  was  always  him- 
self ;  yet  even  in  his  most  turbulent  pictures,  such  as 
Horses  Fighting  in  a  Stable,  in  his  scenes  of  intense 
tragedy  like  the  Medea,  about  to  kill  her  children, 
where  the  antioue  drama  thrills  with  modern  emotion, 
one  detects  the  Greek  spirit  of  poise  asserted.  Their 
effect  is  not  produced,  as  in  Victor  Hugo's  dramas, 

CHS] 


LES  VAILLANTS 

by  shocks  of  contrast,  but  by  a  subtlety^of  ensemble, 
which,  to  use  a  term  of  the  modern  French  studios,  is 
elaborately  organise.  Delacroix,  in  fact,  for  all  the  fire 
and  splendor  of  his  torrential  imagination^  reveals  the 
poise  and  tacTof  restraint  which  are  distinctively  char- 

^ptaM^Mo^M**.  ^ "  ««^PW^W»  "    ••  "•'•   ••MKMHMW^ 

acteristic  of  French  art.  It  is  the  over-enthusiasm  of  his 
supporters  and  the  virulence  of  his  opponents  which 
have  fastened  upon  Delacroix  the  reputation  of  an 
anarch. 


LE  JUSTE-MILIEU 

FRENCH  Romanticism  both  in  literature  and 
painting  was  no  exception  to  the  rule  that  Ro- 
manticism appears  as  a  protest  and  is  of  brief 
duration.  Gusty  with  passion  and  inflamed  with  a  love 
of  the  unusual,  the  surprising  and  the  tempestuous,  and 
usually  inspired  by  what  seems  to  be  the  glamour  of  the 
past,  it  lacks  the  elements  of  continuity  and  advance. 
Long  before  Delacroix's  death  in  1863  the  mantle  which 
he  had  received  from  Gericault  had  outworn  its  useful- 
ness and  the  fashion  of  the  time-spirit.  Even  Victor 
Hugo  was  being  regarded  as  the  "Pater  Bombasticus" 
of  French  literature.  The  Revolution  of  1830,  in  a  po- 
litical sense,  had  been  a  triumph  of  the  bourgeoisie,  and 
the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe,  the  "bourgeois-king," 
had  been  a  period  of  compromise,  characterized  by  the 
worship  of  the  " juste-milieu"  This  had  been  upset 
by  the  Revolution  of  1848  and  France  had  plunged 
into  the  meretricious  splendor  and  extravagance  of  the 
Second  Empire,  an  era  of  nabobs  and  financial  ad- 
venturers and  of  crass  philistinism. 

Romanticism,  which  had  begun  as  a  Revolution,  had 
passed  into  an  evolution;  its  heat  no  longer  central 
but  diffused.  In  its  original  form  it  had  been  inspired 
by,  and  largely  drew  its  subjects  from,  legends  and 

tiro] 


LE  JUSTE  MILIEU 

poetry;  not  to  illustrate  but  to  interpret  them  through 
the  separate  art  of  painting.  Now,  however,  the 
sources  of  inspiration  were  rather  those  of  history  and 
nature.  Taking  advantage,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the 
vogue  created  by  the  new  school  of  historians,  compris- 
ing Thiers,  Guizot  and  Michelet,  the  successors  of 
Romanticism  were  indulging  their  milder  emotions  in 
scenes  of  history.  On  the  other  hand,  the  inspiration 
of  nature,  which,  as  we  have  noted,  the  writings  of 
Chateaubriand  did  so  much  to  popularize,  was  being 
differently  employed.  It  had  attracted  the  early 
Romanticists  to  nature's  grand,  sublime  and  more 
phenomenal  appearances;  under  the  influence  of  Con- 
stable and  the  old  Holland  landscapists  whom  his 
example  had  lead  the  French  artists  to  study,  a  new 
motive  had  been  evolved:  the  poetical  rendering  of  the 
"paysage  intime"  Corot,  Rousseau,  Dupre,  Dau- 
bigny,  Troyan,  Diaz  and  Millet  were  representative 
of  the  spirit  of  1830,  in  that  they  also  revolted  against 
the  conventions  of  the  Academy.  They  possessed,  in 
their  several  ways,  a  measure  of  the  Romantic  spirit; 
but  instead  of  painting  subjects  from  poetry,  which 
demand  for  a  full  appreciation  of  their  import  a 
knowledge  of  the  original,  they  infused  with  the  en- 
chantment of  poetic  quality  scenes  of  nature  that  need 

no  literary  background. 

•  ...... 

Thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  period  of  the  "juste- 
milieu"  was  Paul  Delaroche  (1797-1856)  who  at- 
tempted the  role  of  being  all  things  to  all  men.  He 
coquetted  with  the  taste  for  historic-romantic  pictures 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

in  such  subjects  as  The  Assassination  of  the  Duke  of 
Guise,  Oliver  Cromwell  Viewing  the  Body  of  Charles 
I,  The  Young  Princes  in  the  Tower;  and  squared  him- 
self with  the  Academy  by  his  Hemicyde  of  the  Arts 
in  the  ficole  des  Beaux  Arts.  In  all,  one  feels  the 
influence  of  the  model  and  the  reliance  upon  the  cos- 
tume cupboard  and  property  room.  Industriously  cor- 
rect in  costuming  and  drawing,  the  historical  subjects 
never  reach  the  depth  of  tragedy,  but  have  a  mild  emo- 
tional propriety,  calculated  to  interest  without  shock- 
ing. Correct  also  but  absolutely  null  is  the  effect  in  the 
Hemicyde  of  the  wise  men  of  all  times,  brought  together 
by  the  art  of  the  costumier,  and  waiting  in  a  classic 
anteroom  for  nothing  whatever  to  happen. 

Another,  though  a  more  skilful,  trimmer  was 
Thomas  Couture  (1815-1879)  whose  Romans  of  the 
Decadence  won  for  him  a  sensational  reputation  which 
he  was  unable  to  maintain.  But,  seen  to-day,  this  bac- 
chanalian orgy  of  men  and  women,  classically  grouped 
around,  over  and  under  the  tables,  while  it  has  some 
distinction  of  color,  rings  very  hollow.  It  has  neither 
classical  dignity  nor  the  love  of  sensuous  abandon.  No 
figure  really  lives  its  part;  all  are  stage  supers,  whose 
attitudes  and  expressions  have  been  systematically  re- 
hearsed. 

Still  other  examples  of  men  who,  though  out  and  out 
Academicians,  took  advantage  of  the  historical  vogue 
and  of  the  growing  importance  of  the  nature-motive, 
were  Alexandre  Cabanel  (1823-1889),  William 
Adolphe  Bouguereau  (1825-1905)  and  Leon  Gerome 
(1824-1904).  Cabanel  was  the  best  painter  of  the 

C1223 


LE  JUSTE  MILIEU 

three;  but,  except  in  the  case  of  his  portraits,  ex- 
pended his  skill  on  the  tricking  up  of  a  model  in  various 
draperies  and  attitudes  of  seduction,  posed  to  sug- 
gest this  or  that  heroine  of  historical  scandal.  While 
these  tickled  one  kind  of  taste  of  the  newly  rich,  the 
innocent  prettiness  of  Bouguereau's  girls  and  children, 
rendered  in  an  enlarged  manner  of  china-painting, 
pleased  another;  while  Gerome  indifferently  played  to 
all  the  foibles  of  those  who  see  nothing  in  a  picture  but 
the  subject.  The  three  became  painters-in-ordinary  to 
rich  Americans  and  enjoyed  every  honor  that  French 
officialdom  bestows  on  its  successful,  as  opposed  to  its 
great,  painters. 

For  convenience  we  may  here  anticipate  the  vogue 
of  the  neatly  painted  costume  picture,  the  small  child  of 
the  historical  canvas,  fathered  so  profitably  for  himself 
by  Jean  Louis  Ernest  Meissonier  (1815-1891).  A 
skilful  and  untiring  craftsman  without  an  atom  of 
imagination,  he  shared  the  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd  for 
microscopic  detail  and  a  furniture-polish  finish,  and 
charmed  from  the  pockets  of  nabobs  extravagantly 
fancy  prices  which  it  is  pretty  safe  to  say  his  works  will 
never  again  fetch.  The  popularity  of  these  little 
Rococo  pictures  was  equaled  by  that  of  his  cycle  com- 
memorating the  Great  Napoleon.  He  had  begun  by 
flattering  the  third  Napoleon's  vanity  to  emulate  the 
military  glory  of  his  uncle,  painting  him  surrounded  by 
his  staff,  witnessing  the  Battle  of  Solferino.  In  1870 
Meissonier  accompanied  his  patron  to  the  front,  but 
after  the  disaster  of  Sedan,  returned  to  Paris  and  en- 
listed for  its  defense  in  the  artists'  corps.  When  peace 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

was  resumed  he  commenced  his  series  on  the  Napoleonic 
theme.  They  represented  the  same  method  as  his 
smaller  pictures,  multiplied  to  cover  the  larger  surface, 
and  were  for  the  same  reason  equally  popular.  Meis- 
sonier  could  paint  only  what  he  saw  in  front  of  him  at 
close  range,  and  could  not  refrain  from  reproducing 
everything  that  he  saw  in  it.  His  eye  was  a  human 
camera,  and  the  results  are  those  of  photography,  when 
uncontrolled  by  selection  and  elimination  on  the  part  of 
the  operator. 

From  this  digression  we  may  revert  to  our  subject  by 
way  of  another  painter  of  the  Napoleonic  legend,  Denis 
Auguste  Marie  Raffet  (1804-1860),  whose  work  re- 
flects the  ardor  and  imagination  of  Romanticism.  He 
was  a  pupil  of  Gros  and  also  of  Nicolas  Toussaint  Char- 
let  (1792-1845).  The  latter  was  indefatigable  in 
presenting  with  pencil  and  brush  the  person  of  "the 
little  corporal"  and  the  types  of  veterans  of  the  Grand 
Army.  His  drawings  and  pictures  were  for  the  most 
part  clearly  recorded  facts  of  keen  observation.  But 
in  at  least  one  of  his  subjects  Charlet  displays  imagina- 
tion. Of  his  Episode  in  the  Retreat  from  Russia,,  which 
appeared  in  the  Salon  of  1836,  Alfred  de  Musset  wrote 
that  it  was  "not  an  episode  but  a  complete  poem"  in 
which  the  artist  had  realized  "the  despair  in  the  desert." 
It  was  a  similar  quality  of  fathoming  the  reality  of  war, 
such  as  Gros  had  also  exhibited,  which  characterizes 
the  works  of  Raffet,  in  which  he  follows,  step  by  step, 
as  it  were,  the  fortunes  of  Napoleon  and  the  Grand 
Army,  in  its  glories  and  its  scarcely  less  glorious  humil- 
iation. The  last  of  the  cycle  is  The  Midnight  Review, 


LE  JUSTE  MILIEU 

in  which  the  ghost  of  Napoleon  has  summoned  from 
eternity  his  spectral  hosts,  which  surge  about  him  in 
dashing  waves  of  silence.  It  reveals  Raff et's  power  of 
handling  masses  of  troops,  so  as  to  realize  the  effect  of 
their  mass  and  its  collective  fire  and  force.  His  genius 
was,  in  fact,  the  very  opposite  of  Meissonier's  niggling 
with  details  which  impair  the  impressiveness  of  the 
whole.  Equally  he  excelled  in  sincerity  the  rapid-fire 
dexterity  of  Horace  Vernet  (1789-1863) .  The  latter's 
Mazeppa,  popularized  by  lithographs,  showed  some- 
thing of  the  Romantic  spirit;  but  Vernet,  the  pupil  of 
his  father  and  accustomed  to  the  brush  from  childhood, 
had  an  extraordinary  facility,  which  outran  his  art  and 
left  him  merely  an  exceedingly  versatile  practitioner. 
His  series  of  battle  canvases  in  Versailles  show  how 
thoroughly  he  had  mastered  the  externals  of  the  soldier's 
career,  but  also  that  he  had  missed  its  spirit.  His  pic- 
tures suggest  little  of  the  reality  of  war  and  seem  rather 

like  martial  exhibitions  in  a  hippodrome. 

.•«•••«• 

A  strangely  interesting  bi-product  of  the  Romantic 
period  is  Honore  Daumier  (1808-1879).  His  pictures 
are  comparatively  few  in  number,  one  of  the  finest  be- 
ing Le  Wagon  de  Troisieme  Classe,  owned  in  America 
by  Mr.  Borden.  The  row  of  people,  crowded  on  the 
seat  of  the  bare  coach,  represents  familiar  types  of  the 
lower  classes,  characterized  with  an  unerring  grasp  of 
physiognomical  essentials  and  brushed  in  with  a  free 
stroke  that  glides  over  unessentials  and  fixes  emphatic- 
ally the  salient  features.  Similar  qualities  distinguish 
the  drawings  for  the  comic  papers,  notably  for 

C125] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Charivari,  which  form  the  bulk  of  Daumier's  work.  In 
these  the  brushwork  is  replaced  by  lines  of  extraor- 
dinary integrity,  meaning  and  power.  These  periodic 
records  of  the  human  comedy  during  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe,  while  they  hit  off  the  follies  of  the  time,  throb 
with  an  undertone  of  the  tragedy  of  life.  In  his  Emo- 
tions Parisiennes  and  Bohemiens  de  Paris  he  reveals  the 
horrors  of  hunger  and  suffering  as  well  as  the  impu- 
dence of  vice;  in  his  Histoire  Ancienne  he  parodies  the 
absurdities  of  classicalism,  while  Le  Venire  Legislatif 
dealt  such  a  blow  at  the  smug  hypocrisy  and  compromise 
of  the  bourgeois  rule  that  it  materially  contributed  to 
the  Revolution  of  1848.  When  Daubigny  visited  the 
Sistine  Chapel  and  viewed  the  ceiling  of  Michelangelo, 
he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "It  looks  as  if  it  had  been 
done  by  Daumier."  There  is  an  aptness  in  the  sugges- 
tion, for,  beneath  the  laugh,  in  Daumier's  drawings  lie 
trenchant  force,  a  vital  economy  of  means,  magnificence 
of  plastic  realization  and  grim  intensity  of  purpose. 
Within  his  province,  Daumier  was  a  master  of  the  truly 
grand  style,  whose  influence,  as  we  shall  note  later, 
helped  to  mold  the  art  of  Jean  Fra^ois  Millet. 

•    •  •  •  •  •  •  •  « 

After  Delacroix  had  set  the  example  by  his  visit  to 
Morocco,  Egypt  and  the  East  became  to  the  Romanti- 
cists what  Italy  had  been  to  the  Classicists.  Here  in  the 
actual  facts  of  life  and  the  presence  of  nature  they  could 
see  the  glow  and  color  and  stir  of  movement,  which 
hitherto  had  fermented  only  in  their  imagination,  as- 
sisted by  the  promptings  of  poetry  and  legend,  None 
derived  from  the  experience  more  inspiration,  suited  to 

'    C1263 


LE  JUSTE  MILIEU 

his  particular  needs  than  Alexandre  Decamps  (1803- 
1860) .  For  he  was  first  and  last  a  painter  to  the  finger 
tips ;  to  whom  everything  that  possessed  color  and  move- 
ment was  sufficient  for  a  subject.  And  such  he  found 
at  every  turn  in  the  wonderland  of  the  East.  Among 
his  earliest  examples  in  this  vein  is  the  beautiful  Night 
Patrol  at  Smyrna  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum.  He  is 
inadequately  represented  in  the  Louvre,  and  to  study 
him  in  the  variety  of  his  Oriental  and  Biblical  subjects 
and  in  his  water-colors  a  visit  must  be  paid  to  the  Wal- 
lace Collection.  One  of  the  finest  here  is  The  Watering 
Place:  a  row  of  Arab  horsemen  watering  their  horses  at 
a  trough,  beneath  a  high  wall  which  catches  the  light. 
It  comes,  perhaps,  nearest  to  justifying  the  reputation 
Decamps  held  among  his  contemporaries  of  being  a 
painter  of  light ;  but  at  the  same  time  shows  that  he  was 
not  one  in  the  modern  sense.  For  it  is  rather  through 
the  contrast  of  deep  masses  of  shadow  that  he  renders 
a  suggestion  of  light,  and  the  shadows  have  darkened. 
His  effects,  indeed,  are  obtained  not  so  much  by  render- 
ing nature  as  by  device  of  art ;  which  in  these  days,  when 
art  is  so  often  sacrificed  to  nature,  may  tend  rather  to  in- 
crease one's  estimate  of  Decamps. 

With  less  of  the  latter's  color-sense  and  virtuosity  of 
brushwork,  Prosper  Marilhat  (1811-1847)  rendered 
the  East  in  a  spirit  of  quiet  poetry.  Between  the  years 
1833  and  1844  he  was  the  only  serious  rival  of  Decamps 
in  the  Oriental  genre.  But  after  the  latter  date  he  dis- 
appears. Failure  to  be  awarded  the  Cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor  brought  on  a  melancholy,  resulting 
in  insanity  from  which  he  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-six. 

[127  II 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

With  Eugene  Fromentin  (1820-1876)  the  original 
fervor  of  the  Oriental  painter  evaporates  into  elegant 
refinement.  The  esprit  gaulois  reasserts  itself  in  the 
grace,  distinction  and  nervous  poise  of  these  Oriental 
compositions,  where  the  loveliness  of  the  landscape  is 
sprinkled  with  Arab  chivalry,  as  dainty  as  groups  of 

delicate  and  gaily-colored  flowers. 

•          ••••••• 

Meanwhile,  unattracted  by  the  lure  of  the  East,  Paul 
Huet  (1804-1869)  and  Georges  Michel  (1753-1843) 
found  a  vent  for  their  emotional  temperaments  in  paint- 
ing the  home  landscape.  Huet,  though  the  younger 
man,  may  be  mentioned  first,  since  in  his  day  he  was 
recognized  as  a  part  of  the  Romantic  movement.  Some- 
thing of  the  Byronic  attitude  toward  nature  possessed 
him ;  a  passion  for  splendor  of  colored  skies,  for  stormy 
movement  of  clouds  and  water,  contrast  and  shocks  of 
storms;  and  the  struggle  of  humanity  with  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  nature.  His  earlier  works  are  not  free  from 
the  criticism  of  being  theatrical  in  effect,  while  the  sim- 
pler ones  which  followed  found  themselves  in  competi- 
tion with  the  Barbizon  landscape  and  suffered  by  com- 
parison. 

Michel,  on  the  other  hand,  entirely  unknown  to  his 
generation,  has  attained  through  the  vogue  of  the  Bar- 
bizon pictures  a  posthumous  fame.  The  appearance 
of  some  of  his  landscapes  at  the  International  Exhibi- 
tion of  1889,  attracted  attention  to  this  solitary  artist, 
whose  genius  had  hitherto  been  overlooked  save  by  a  few 
connoisseurs.  The  meager  facts  of  his  life  were  un- 
earthed :  "that  at  twelve  years  old  he  had  shirked  school 


LE  JUSTE  MILIEU 

to  go  drawing;  at  fifteen  had  run  away  with  a  laundress 
and  was  the  father  of  five  children  at  the  age  of  twenty; 
that  he  had  married  again  when  he  was  sixty-five  and 
worked  hard  until  his  eightieth  year."  It  was  recalled 
that  after  the  Revolution  he  painted  many  landscapes  in 
the  classical  style,  but  had  certainly  disappeared  from 
the  Salon  since  1814.  In  later  life  he  gained  a  liveli- 
hood by  restoring  pictures,  and  may  in  this  way  have 
been  drawn  to  study  the  Dutch  seventeenth  century 
landscapes.  At  any  rate  they  seem  to  have  directed  him 
to  the  painting  of  the  simple  landscape  in  its  natural 
aspects.  "The  man  who  cannot  find,"  he  is  reported  to 
have  said,  "enough  to  paint  during  his  whole  life  in  a 
circuit  of  four  miles  is  in  reality  no  artist.  Did  the 
Dutch  ever  run  from  one  place  to  another?  And  yet 
they  are  good  painters,  and  not  merely  that,  but  the 
most  powerful,  bold  and  ideal  artists."  He  found  his 
own  circuit  in  the  plains  of  Montmartre.  His  pictures 
play  upon  the  theme  of  level  sweeps  of  land,  interrupted 
by  low,  undulating  hills;  seamed  with  long  winding 
roads,  pricked  here  and  there  with  a  church  or  farm- 
house, or  occasionally  thrusting  a  dark  windmill  against 
the  wide  expanse  of  sky.  The  earth,  brown-soiled,  its 
yellow  herbage  scantily  varied  with  deep  green,  now 
basks  beneath  a  whitish  sky,  now  shivers  in  the  gloom  of 
a  leaden-purple  storm-cloud,  fringed  with  rain,  or 
under  the  shifty  cloud-currents  is  streaked  with  light 
and  shadow.  Over  all  broods  a  spirit,  large,  aloof,  ele- 
mental. 

Michel  is  the  link  between  the  earlier  Romanticists 
and  the  poetry  of  the  pay  sage  intime. 

[129] 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

A  SECOND    time    in    the    story    of    French 
painting  Fontainebleau  becomes  the  nucleus 
of  a  fresh  departure.     Three  centuries  ear- 
lier Francis  I  had  invited  thither  Italian  artists,  thus 
giving  royal  indorsement  to  the  inauguration  of  the 
French  Renaissance.     Now  a  group  of  artists,  settling 
in  Barbizon  on  the  edge  of  the  Forest,  developed  a  new 
motive :  the  poetry  of  the  pay  sage  intime. 

A  great  difference  separates  the  two  events.  The 
earlier,  an  aristocratic  movement,  had  been  an  infusion 
of  French  life  and  thought  and  art  with  the  southern 
culture  of  Greece,  Rome  and  Italy ;  a  recovering  of  the 
birthright  of  the  nation  in  one  of  the  sources  of  its  race 
and  civilization;  an  assertion  of  the  Mediterranean  ele- 
ment in  its  mixed  ancestry.  The  new  movement  is 
democratic,  its  origin  not  only  northern  but  essentially 
French.  It  represents  the  northern  independence  and 
interest  in  the  facts  of  nature,  and  expends  its  enthusi- 
asm on  the  native  landscape  of  the  simple  countryside. 
But  it  is  also  tinged  with  the  Romanticism  of  its  day, 
so  that  its  exponents  are  not  satisfied  to  render  nature 
objectively.  They  bring  feeling  to  interpret  what 
they  see  and  translate  their  own  sensations  into  poems 
of  nature's  moods. 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

The  suggestion  of  the  paysage  inti^me,  as  Delacroix 
explains  in  his  "Question  sur  le  Beau,"  published  in  the 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  in  1854,  came  from  England. 
At  the  Salon  of  1824,  held  in  the  Louvre,  Constable 
and  Bonington  were  represented,  as  well  as  Copley 
Fielding,  Harding,  Samuel  Prout  and  Varley,  while 
Constable  continued  to  exhibit  annually  until  1828. 
In  the  Salon  of  1831  appeared  for  the  first  time  the 
young  Frenchmen  whose  names  are  now  immortalized. 
Rousseau  made  his  first  visit  to  Fontainebleau  in  1833, 
when  he  was  twenty-one  years  old.  The  following  year 
he  painted  the  Cote  de  Granville,  which  was  awarded  a 
medal  of  the  third  class.  Thenceforth,  for  twelve 
years,  his  pictures  were  rejected  from  the  Salon,  not- 
withstanding the  fight  urged  on  his  behalf  by  Biirger- 
Thore,  Gustave  Planche  and  Theophile  Gautier.  It 
was  not  until  the  Revolution  of  1848  had  overturned 
the  sway  of  bourgeois  officialdom  that  the  Salon  was 
opened  to  him.  Meanwhile  Corot  discovered  Barbizon 
and  Rousseau  about  1835,  when  he  was  nearing  his  for- 
tieth year,  just  as  some  eight  years  previously  he  had 
become  acquainted  at  the  Salon  with  the  works  of  Con- 
stable and  Bonington.  Both  experiences  left  their 
impression  upon  the  slow  process  of  his  evolution  out 
of  the  classicalism  which  he  had  derived  from  his 
teacher,  Bertin.  He  was  turned  fifty  before  the  result 
of  these  various  influences  were  fully  assimilated  into 
the  manner  that  is  peculiarly  his  own. 

These  two,  Corot  and  Rousseau,  typify  the  elements 
which  compose  the  poetry  of  the  paysage  intime. 
Rousseau^  son  of  a  small  tailor,  inured  to  poverty  and 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

born  to  sorrow  "as  the  sparks  fly  up,"  was  inspired  by 
a  love  of  nature  that  in  its  intensity  amounted  to  wor- 
ship, while  his  study  of  nature  involved  an  exactitude 
that  was  almost  mathematical  and  a  rendering  of  it  that 
vies  with  the  plasticity  of  sculpture.  Corot,  on  the 
other  hand,  whose  parents  were  court  modistes,  was  a 
stranger  to  want  and  vexation  of  spirit;  one  of  those 
rare  natures  on  whom  the  smile  of  childhood  lingers  to 
the  end;  an  avatar  of  the  Greek  spirit  that  lurks  in  the 
spiritual  alertness  of  the  esprit  gaulois.  For  Corot's 
temperament  was  classic  in  the  true  sense;  trembling  to 
the  subtlest  suggestion  of  nature,  but  also  governed  by 

a  delicate  sense  of  poise,  harmony  and  rhythm. 
•  •••••• 

It  is  not  unusual  to  describe  Corot's  artistic  career 
as  a  gradual  release  from  the  bondage  of  classicalism 
into  the  liberty  of  nature.  But  rather  it  represents  the 
slowly  accomplished  union  of  the  two  inspirations:  that 
of  Nature  and  the  Classic.  So  far  from  his  early  affilia- 
tions with  Bertin's  classicalism  being  a  deplorable  de- 
ferring of  his  artistic  salvation,  it  was  a  necessary  and 
fruitful  approach  thereto;  one  that  to  such  a  tempera- 
ment as  Corot's  was  inevitable.  It  was  through  classi- 
calism that  he  had  to  discover  himself,  and  he  did  so  by 
discovering  how  classicalism  differed  from  the  Classic. 
He  had  to  sift  the  true  from  the  false.  Nor  was  it 
from  Barbizon  or  Rousseau  that  he  derived  his  love  of 
nature.  It  is  more  than  latent  in  his  early  landscapes 
and  figure-subjects  which  owe  their  immediate  origin 
to  his  Italian  visits. 

In  fact,  Corot's  life  was  not  chopped  in  half,  as  some 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

writers  would  have  us  believe,  by  a  sudden  conversion  to 
the  "true  faith"  at  the  age  of  fifty;  after  which  he 
sloughed  off  his  classicalism  and  appeared  as  the  re- 
generated and  real  Corot  of  our  fancy.  The  truth  is, 
that  his  life  was  an  unbroken  and  consistent  whole;  a 
young  man's  love  for  an  ideal,  bodied  in  nature's  form 
and  spiritualized  by  the  Classic  soul;  pursued  through 
years  of  quietly  ardent  courtship,  until  his  ideal  was 
won  and  he  dwelt  with  it  in  perfect  amity. 

The  better  way  to  measure  Corot's  personality  and 
his  place  in  French  art  is  not  to  compare  him  with 
Rousseau,  as  is  generally  done,  but  rather  with  Poussin. 
For  then  one  discovers  that  Corot  is  joined  to  the  latter 
in  a  lineage,  characteristically  French,  while  it  is 
through  Constable  to  the  Dutch,  in  direct  line  from 
Ruisdael,  that  Rousseau  derived.  Corot  shared  with 
Poussin  both  the  northern  love  of  nature  and  the  rever- 
ence for  the  Classic.  The  earlier  artist,  however,  still 
clung  to  the  idea  of  nature  as  the  scene  of  human  emo- 
tions, uniting  his  mythological  and  Biblical  figures 
with  the  landscape  and  composing  nature  and  humanity 
into  an  arabesque,  more  distinguished  by  line  and  mass 
than  by  color.  Corot,  on  the  other  hand,  weds  color 
with  line  in  a  unity  which  is  at  once  more  unreservedly 
a  vision  of  nature  and  more  convincingly  impregnated 
with  the  human  spirit.  The  fact  is,  that  in  both  re- 
spects, Poussin,  alongside  of  Corot,  is  a  painter  of  land- 
scape genre,  while  the  latter  artist  embodies  the  spirit 
of  nature  as  it  appeals  to  the  spirit  of  man.  For  while 
Poussin  harmonized  man  and  nature  pictorially,  Corot 
effects  a  spiritual  harmony,  based  upon  undertones  of 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

order,  balance  and  rhythm,  such  as  were  imagined  and 
visualized  by  Hellenic  artists.  It  has  been  well  said 
that  Corot  did  not  paint  nature,  but  his  love  of  it;  and 
his  love  of  it  was  saturated  with  the  Classic  spirit. 

Meanwhile  a  bond  of  similarity  between  Poussin  and 
Corot  consists  in  their  abstract  attitude  toward  the 
landscape.  Compared  with  this  Rousseau's  landscapes 
seem  local,  Constable's  still  more  so.  The  latter's  are 
filled  with  the  charm  of  familiarity.  He  is  like  Dau- 
bigny  in  his  gift  of  making  one  feel  at  home  in  the  in- 
timacy of  the  place.  With  Rousseau  also  the  individu- 
ality of  the  scene  is  made  familiar.  One  treads  the  spot 
with  a  feeling  of  being  at  home,  although,  it  is  true, 
one's  imagination  is  drawn  toward  a  wider  significance, 
of  which  one  is  led  to  feel  that  the  local  is  only  a  sym- 
bol. But,  while  Rousseau's  intellect  was  fascinated 
with  the  facts  around  him  and  his  spirit  was  that  of  a 
Prometheus,  shackled  in  torment  to  the  earth;  Corot's 
is  disengaged,  more  abstract.  It  soars  lightly  and 
songfully  as  the  skylark,  and,  fluttering  down,  again, 
brings  something  of  heaven  to  earth.  His  landscapes, 
in  fact,  are  not  halting  places  on  the  way  to  the  univer- 
sal, as  Rousseau's  are,  but  spots  of  earth,  transfigured  by 
something  of  the  universal  having  been  drawn  down 
into  them. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  recall  that  in  the  interval  since 
Poussin  there  had  appeared  the  exquisitely  French  and 
spiritual  art  of  Watteau.  For  there  is  more  than  a 
little  analogy  to  Watteau  in  the  poignant  loveliness  of 
Corot's  landscape  and  in  his  peopling  them  with  fig- 
ures. The  latter,  whether  nymphs  of  classic  pedigree 

D34] 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

or  peasant  folk  are  not  only  impersonal  but  seem  to  be 
embodiments  of  the  spirit  of  the  scene ;  accidental  notes 
in  the  harmony  of  universal  music. 

The  admiration  felt  for  Corot's  landscapes  has 
tended  to  obscure  the  importance  of  his  work  in  sub- 
jects where  the  figure  plays  the  chief  role.  In  almost 
all  it  is  the  female  figure ;  treated  at  first  for  the  sake  of 
its  objective  personality,  then  gradually  employed  as 
a  symbol  of  the  eternal  feminine.  As  Rousseau  pre- 
eminently represents  the  male  force  in  this  Pleiad  of 
landscape-painters,  so  Corot  is  the  unqualified  embodi- 
ment of  the  female.  His  later  figure-subjects  are  idyls 
of  the  grace  and  loveliness  of  spirituelle  girlhood,  in- 
stinct with  the  tender  sprightliness  of  springtime  and 
the  subtle  mystery  of  awakening  day. 

In  his  earlier  pictures  which  comprised  the  results  of 
his  first  visit  to  Italy,  he  was  intent  upon  the  plastic 
qualities  of  form  and  gesture;  later,  in  his  numerous 
pictures  of  Parisian  types,  it  was  the  spirit  of  the  sub- 
ject at  which  he  grasped,  while  in  his  final  treatment  of 
the  figure,  which  followed  his  return  from  the  second 
visit  to  Italy  in  1843,  he  added  the  quality  of  tone.  No 
less  plastic,  his  figures  have  become  more  alive  because 
they  are  enveloped  in  air;  spherical  forms  in  depth  of 
atmosphere.  By  this  time  also  they  are  more  completely: 
wedded  to  the  spirit  of  the  scene,  or  if  you  will,  the  lat- 
ter is  more  inseparably  incorporated  in  them,  so  that  to 
reality  is  added  elusiveness  of  spiritual  suggestion.  It 
is  on  this  side  of  his  art,  which  he  pursued  intermittently 
with  landscape,  that  Corot  may  be  compared  with  Mil- 
let. Their  choice  of  subjects  was  very  different,  but 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

both  use  the  figure  in  relation  to  the  landscape  typic- 
ally ;  Millet  to  symbolize  the  age-old  routine  of  labor  in 
the  scheme  of  the  universe;  Corot,  nature's  pervasive 
spirit  of  harmony  and  recurring  youth. 

It  is  rather  sentiment  or  convenience  that  links  Corot 
with  the  "Barbizon  School."  He  seldom  visited  the 
Forest,  preferring  Ville  d'Avray  and  Paris.  Nor  was 
he  as  much  in  the  habit  of  painting  in  the  presence  of 
nature  as  the  others.  His  work  in  the  open  air  was 
largely  the  storing  of  impressions,  which  he  afterwards 
wrought  into  pictures  in  his  Paris  studio.  For  this 
reason  and  because  of  his  Classic  bias,  Corot  was  scarcely 
accepted  as  a  veritable  nature-painter  by  Rousseau  and 
his  immediate  circle.  Nor  was  he  one  in  the  sense  in 
which  they  understood  the  term.  Possibly  for  that  very 
reason  his  art  has  more  of  the  universal  quality  and  of 
inherent  personal  vitality.  Certainly  to-day  he  seems 
the  most  modern  of  the  band. 

•  ••**•• 

In  a  brilliant  chapter  of  his  "Maitre  d'  Autrefois" 
Eugene  Fromentin  shows  how  the  Barbizon  artists  in- 
vaded and  conquered  the  field  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury Holland  landscapists.  And  in  this  connection  he 
pays  the  highest  tribute  to  Theodore  Rousseau.  In 
doing  so,  however,  he  is  disposed  to  overlook  the  influ- 
ence of  Constable.  The  English  artist's  Hay  Wain 
was  seen  by  Rousseau  in  1833,  and  the  latter 's  picture 
of  the  following  year,  Cote  de  Gramnlle,  now  in  the  St. 
Petersburg  Museum,  shows,  as  Meier-Graefe  observes, 
the  influence  unmistakably.  Moreover,  in  the  qualities 
which  especially  characterize  the  advance  of  Rousseau 

C186;] 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

beyond  the  Hollanders:  namely,  greater  naturalness  of 
color,  movement  of  the  tree-forms  in  atmosphere,  and 
the  abandonment  of  little  particularities  of  detail  for  a 
more  sweeping  and  comprehensive  synthesis,  Constable 
had  anticipated  the  discoveries  and  progress  of  the  Bar- 
bizon  artist  by  a  generation.  Nor  in  the  matter  of  sen- 
timent is  the  record  otherwise.  Making  allowance  for 
difference  of  temperament,  Constable's  art  is  as  expres- 
sive of  the  poetry  of  nature,  that  is  to  say,  of  the  artist's 
love  for  nature,  as  that  of  any  of  the  Barbizon  group. 

But  to  recognize  this  is  not  to  belittle  Rousseau.  It 
is  only  to  view  him  from  a  different  angle;  to  see  his 
art  through  the  more  immediate  prism  of  Constable 
than  the  farther  one  of  Ruisdael  from  whom  both  are 
derived. 

Meanwhile,  if  one  penetrates  beyond  these  sources  of 
inspiration  to  the  personality  itself  of  Rousseau,  it  is  to 
discover  its  essentially  Gallic  character.  What  pre- 
ceded him  in  the  art  of  Holland  and  of  England  be- 
comes in  Rousseau  a  distinctively  French  incarnation. 
We  can  assure  ourselves  of  this  fact  both  by  the  objec- 
tive evidence  of  his  pictures  and  by  the  psychology  they 
embody. 

It  is  French  rural  landscape,  the  appearance  and 
spirit  of  it  that  Rousseau  specifically  interprets.  If  you 
are  familiar  with  the  French  countryside  and  with  that 
of  Holland  and  of  England  and  have  come  under  the 
spell  of  their  spirit,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that 
Rousseau  is  thoroughly  French  both  in  his  record  and 
interpretation.  How  shall  one  characterize  the  differ- 
ence? Maybe,  it  is  the  snugness  of  England  and  the 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

diminutive  sweep  of  Holland  that  are  contrasted  with 
the  wider  sweep  and  more  expansive  intimacy  of  the 
French  northern  landscape. 

And  psychologically  the  Gallic  strain  in  Rousseau's 
art  is  equally  perceptible.  It  involves  a  logic  of  ar- 
rangement, more  organized  than  Constable's,  more 
subtle  than  Ruisdael's.  They  say  that  Rousseau,  as  a 
boy,  was  proficient  in  mathematics.  It  may  be  true, 
for  midway  in  his  career  as  an  artist  the  scientific  bent 
of  his  mind  was  developed  at  the  expense  of  the  artistic. 
He  became  as  rigid  a  student  of  the  objective  facts  of 
nature  as  any  Ruskin  could  desire.  Meanwhile,  his 
art,  taken  as  a  whole,  reveals  that  architectonic  quality 
which  is  peculiarly  French.  He  lays  the  solid  founda- 
tions of  the  ground,  roots  in  it  the  trees  and  rocks  and 
builds  up  their  structures,  giving  to  the  trees  a  living 
vigor  as  of  a  giant  bracing  his  huge  body  and  stretch- 
ing the  knotted  muscles  of  his  brawny  limbs.  And 
back  of  this  stout  and  stable  framework,  richly  sober 
and  solid  in  color,  he  sets  the  sky,  a  contrast  of  evanes- 
cent movement,  mysterious  distance,  light,  and,  often, 
of  flaming  color,  of  which  the  foreground  catches  a 
gleam  in  some  quiet  pool.  It  is  said  to  have  been  Rous- 
seau's practice  to  postpone  the  painting  of  the  sky  un- 
til after  he  had  realized  his  impression  of  the  ground 
and  trees.  "It  is  probably  true,"  observes  M.  Camille 
Monclair,  "and  this  method  of  procedure  was  a  rem- 
nant of  the  classical  spirit." 

The  surmise  may  be  correct,  but  it  does  not  go  deep 
enough.  Rousseau  had  the  scientific  intellect  and  an 
imagination  profoundly  impressed  with  the  concrete, 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

tangible  evidence  of  force  and  energy.  As  an  artist  it 
was  the  elemental  qualities  of  permanence  and  strength 
in  nature  that  occupied  his  genius.  Moreover,  temper- 
amentally, he  had  little  or  nothing  of  the  dreamer  or 
visionary,  who  can  disengage  himself  from  the  facts  of 
earth  and  construct  castles  in  the  air.  He  was,  on  the 
contrary,  a  thinker,  close,  accurate  and  logical;  a  very 
serious  one,  leaning  toward  moroseness,  more  inclined 
to  sensitiveness  than  sympathy.  The  latter  or  a  sense 
of  duty  made  him  cling  to  his  wife,  a  woman  of  the  for- 
est, although  she  had  become  insane  and  Millet  advised 
placing  her  in  an  asylum.  But  he  became  estranged 
from  his  devoted  friend,  Dupre,  when  the  latter  and  not 
himself  received  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor; 
and  the  suspicion  is  aroused  that  this  or  other  official 
slights  which  Rousseau  received  were  partly  due  to  the 
attitude  of  mind  expressed  in  his  own  words:  "I  am  not 
understood" ;  an  idea  which,  if  it  grows  to  a  fixity,  may 
easily  become  morbid. 

One  instance  of  misunderstanding  Rousseau  is  ex- 
hibited by  some  writers  who  affirm  that  he  had  "but 
little  of  the  imaginative  temperament."  The  supposi- 
tion appears  to  result  from  the  old-fashioned  separa- 
tion of  the  "ideal"  from  the  actual;  the  former  being 
regarded  as  something  fabricated  by  the  imagination, 
floating  on  wings  amid  clouds,  iridescent  with  light 
"that  never  was  on  sea  or  land."  Such  was  Italian 
idealism,  the  tradition  of  which  persists  unfortunately 
even  to  the  present  day;  notwithstanding  Rembrandt, 
Constable  and  the  Barbizon  artists.  For  it  was  part  of 
their  genius  that  they  discovered  and  revealed  the  ideal 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

in  the  everyday  aspects  of  nature.  They  possessed  that 
order  of  imagination  which  divines  the  noble  in  the  com- 
monplace ;  the  beautiful  in  ugliness ;  both  aspiration  and 
means  of  realization  in  the  actual.  Perhaps  one  might 
call  this  the  scientific  imagination  as  compared  with  the 
empiric.  It  is  growing  day  by  day  to  be  the  modern 
conception  of  the  finest  kind  of  imagination,  notwith- 
standing that  many  artists  do  their  best  to  retard  the 
growth  by  clinging  to  the  old  remnant  of  the  tradition- 
ary "ideal."  They  prate,  for  example,  of  an  "ideal 
head,"  which  in  plain  English  represents  a  girl's  face, 
prettified  out  of  likeness  to  nature :  with  smoothly  bev- 
eled features,  inflated  eyeballs,  simpering  mouth,  a 
china-finish  to  her  complexion  and  a  rose  stuck  coquet- 
tishly  in  her  hair.  Meanwhile  the  layman,  recognizing 
that  such  and  similar  flub-dub  contradicts  the  actualities 
of  life,  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  "guesses  it 's  all  right" 
for  artists,  but  that  art  clearly  "has  nothing  in  it"  for 
the  practical  man.  Whereupon  the  artist  retorts  that 
the  latter  is  a  philistine. 

Looked  at  in  this  modern  light,  Rousseau  is  found  to 
have  possessed  not  only  imagination,  but  imagination 
of  that  very  high  order  which  anticipates  the  faith  and 
consciousness  of  posterity.  For  to  the  vast  majority 
of  his  contemporaries  the  "ideal  landscape"  was  one 
fabricated  out  of  the  artist's  fancy  in  the  fashion  of 
Claude  Lorrain.  To  look  for  idealism  in  what  the 
world  considered  vulgar;  to  find  it  there  and  gradually 
to  compel  the  world  to  recognize  it — that  was  the  great 
gift  of  Rousseau  to  modern  art  and  life.  Perhaps  only 
a  Frenchman  could  have  achieved  it,  since  the  prestige 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

of  his  country  was  behind  him.  Constable,  for  example, 
was  ignored  by  his  own  countrymen,  until  they  had 
learned  from  France  to  value  the  poetry  of  the  pay  sage 
intime  and  so  to  offer  belated  and  none  too  generous 
homage  to  their  own  artist  who  had  helped  to  inspire  it. 

That  Rousseau  should  thus  become  recognized  as  the 
leader  of  the  group  and  the  father  of  modern  land- 
scape was  due  to  the  qualities  of  his  imagination,  which 
may  be  summed  up  as  force  and  concentration.  His 
was  not  a  roaming  but  a  penetrating  imagination,  whose 
grip  tightens  to  conviction.  When  one  thinks  of  Rous- 
seau there  rise  to  one's  memory  a  stretch  of  rude,  firm 
earth,  some  oaks  and  boulders;  autumn  time,  noontide 
or  sunset.  These  supply  the  motif  for  so  many  of  his 
pictures.  They  symbolize  for  him  those  qualities  of 
nature  which  his  own  qualities  of  imagination  lead  him 
to  dwell  upon:  its  permanence  and  strength.  Nor  do 
we  find  their  repetition  pall  upon  us.  The  artist's  con- 
viction of  their  import  is  so  absolutely  his  soul's  faith 
that  we  join  with  him  in  worship  of  these  elemental  mys- 
teries. For  mysteries  they  are  felt  to  be;  no  longer 
ordinary  facts,  by  the  time  they  have  been  submitted  to 
the  alchemy  of  Rousseau's  imagination. 

Some  French  critic  has  remarked  that  the  Louvre  pic- 
ture, The  Edge  of  the  Forest,  Sunset  (p.  141),  presents 
a  synthesis  of  Rousseau's  art.  There  could  scarcely  be 
a  nobler  one.  Oaks  grouped  to  left  and  right,  their 
upper  branches  locked  in  an  embrace;  a  shattered  stem 
and  riven  limbs,  reminder  of  disorder  in  nature ;  a  boul- 
der in  solid  contrast  to  the  stable  movement  of  the  trees ; 
a  smaller  oak  beyond,  bent  over  in  compliance  to  supe- 

£141] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

rior  force,  and  a  spreading  level  plain  of  pasture,  sug- 
gesting- the  kindlier,  more  intimate  permanence  of  na- 
ture ;  a  sky,  flushed  with  the  glow  of  sunset,  which  dyes 
a  pool  close  by  us  in  the  foreground,  where  cows,  which 
have  yielded  their  milk  to  human  needs,  are  cooling 
tranquilly  or  drinking.  Transmuted  into  the  abstract 
by  Rousseau's  genius,  this  epic  of  nature  and  man's  re- 
lation thereto  is  Iliad  and  Odyssey  in  one ;  the  grandeur 
of  life's  strain  and  stress  and  the  blessedness  of  suc- 
ceeding calm  and  relaxation. 

This  picture  is  also  characteristic  of  Rousseau's  use 
of  color;  for,  while  he,  like  Corot,  anticipates  the  Im- 
pressionists in  the  "division  of  color,"  which  he  may  have 
learned  from  Constable  or  Delacroix,  he  still  shows  him- 
self a  tonalist  and  an  adherent  of  the  old  idea  that  har- 
mony demands  predominance  of  the  warm  hues.  He 
falls  short  of  Constable  as  a  painter  of  nature's  color- 
ing and  as  a  translator  of  this  into  abstract  color  sym- 
phonies does  not  rank  with  Corot.  The  latter,  by  the 
way,  was  much  in  advance  of  his  contemporaries,  ex- 
cept Delacroix,  in  recognizing  that  the  fundamental 
principle  of  chromatic  harmony  is  not  a  matter  of  hue 
but  of  light  and  dark  tones.  By  Goya,  who  so  remark- 
ably anticipated  the  trend  of  modern  painting,  this  prin- 
ciple had  been  enunciated  in  the  paradox:  "There  is 
no  color  in  nature,  only  light  and  dark."  Delacroix 
may  have  learned  the  principle  from  Goya  during  the 
latter's  visit  to  Paris  about  1820,  or  while  he  himself 
was  visiting  Madrid  in  1832.  At  any  rate  he  would 
find  corroboration  of  it  in  the  Spanish  artist's  paintings 
and  etchings.  But,  while  Delacroix  applied  the  princi- 

[142] 


THE  POETRY  OP  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

pie  mainly  on  the  warm  side  of  the  palette,  it  was  from 
the  cool  scale  that  Corot  achieved  his  most  character- 
istic harmonies;  moreover,  with  less  reliance  upon  hues 
and  a  fuller  acceptance  of  the  principle  of  light  and 
dark  than  even  Delacroix. 

Rousseau's  characteristic  color  harmonies  have  been 
aptly  compared  to  masses  of  molten  metals,  out  of  which 
flash  the  splendor  of  liquid  gems.  But  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  one  of  his  masterpieces  is  The  Hoar  Frost 
in  the  Walters  Collection  in  Baltimore,  which  was 
painted  in  1845.  The  date  serves  to  remind  us  that 
American  collectors  were  among  the  first  and  the  most 
generous  clients,  not  only  of  Rousseau  but  of  the  whole 
Barbizon  group.  And,  since  the  appreciation  of  them 
which  the  American  artists,  William  Morris  Hunt  and 
John  La  Farge,  did  so  much  to  establish  has  continued 
to  the  present  time,  it  is  in  this  country  that  the  greatest 
number  of  fine  examples  of  their  work  exists. 

Narcisse  Virgile  Diaz  delaPena  (1802-1876)  and 
Jules  Dupre  (1812-1889)  are  the ;J;wQ  jnembers_nf -the 
group  ^who  reveal  most  conspicuously  the  Romantic 
spirit,  while  Charles  Fra^ois  Daubigny  is  the  nearest 
to  Constable.  Dupre  is  very  uneven,  his  late  work  es- 
pecially being  labored  and  heavy  in  its  handling.  It 
represents  the  deterioration  of  a  motive  that  always 
inclined  toward  the  melodramatic  and  by  repetition  be- 
came mechanical.  It  is  deeply,  often  violently,  emo- 
tional and  depends  for  its  effects  upon  striking  con- 
trasts. Yet  in  his  choicest  moments  Dupre  could  ren- 
der with  fine  sincerity  the  solemn  calm  of  sunset  or  the 

[143  ] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

conflict  of  swollen  storm-clouds.  Probably,  however, 
he  was  at  his  best  when  interpreting  the  effects  that  fol- 
low thunder-showers,  when  the  cloud-forms  are  broken 
with  intervals  of  clear  sky  and  the  level  expanse  of 
pasture,  juicy  and  richly  hued,  is  barred  with  moving 
lights  and  shadows.  In  these  moods  there  is  no  hint  of 
an  emotional  parade  of  feeling;  a  wide  and  genial 
wholesomeness  prevails. 

Diaz  was  more  purely  the  painter.  Even  his  land- 
scapes reveal  less  the  sentiment  of  nature  than  the 
poetry  of  the  palette;  and  as  a  colorist  he  is  closest  of 
the  group  to  Delacroix.  He  understood  the  principle 
of  division  of  color,  applying  the  pigments  pure  and 
juxtaposing  their  tones  in  a  delicate  tissue  of  nuances, 
and  used  with  excellent  effect  the  contrasts  of  comple- 
mentary hues.  Thus  he  rendered  the  effects  of  shadow 
without  heaviness  or  opacity.  He  loved  to  break  up 
his  lights,  choosing  for  his  subject  the  recesses  of  the 
forest  where  the  light  percolates  through  the  interstices 
of  the  boughs  and  foliage  in  countless  gleams,  reflec- 
tions and  refractions,  or  open  spots  of  woodland  land- 
scape in  moments  following  a  shower,  when  the  light 
breaks  fitfully  from  shifting  clouds,  and  trunks,  leaves 
and  grass  scintillate  with  glistening  raindrops.  Again, 
in  his  nudes,  draped  figures  and  groups  of  women  in 
gay,  Oriental  costumes  he  breaks  up  the  light  into  innu- 
merable facets,  touched  in  with  a  peculiar  flickering 
brush-stroke,  which  curiously  resembles  that  unusual  ex- 
ample of  Vermeer  of  Delft,  Diana  and  her  Nymphs,  in 
the  Hague  Gallery.  In  his  handling  of  the  flesh-tints 
Diaz,  like  Corot,  exhibits  the  influence  of  Correggio; 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

imparting  to  the  surfaces  a  quivering  softness  and  a 
certain  morbidezza.  But  he  has  not  Corot's  gift  of  giv- 
ing his  figures  spherical  form  and  placing  them  in  space ; 
in  which  respect  he  is  again  inferior  to  Monticelli,  with 
whom  his  phantasies  of  brilliant  orchestration  suggest 
comparison.  Diaz  designed  arabesques  where  Monti- 
celli constructed  a  concave  space  and  peopled  it  with 
blossoming  forms.  Yet  despite  these  limitations  which 
comparison  with  greater  men  reveal,  Diaz  remains  a 
fascinating  master  of  seductive  harmonies. 

Daubigny  was  the  junior  of  Diaz  by  only  fifteen 
years,  while  not  more  than  five  separated  him  from 
Rousseau  and  Dupre.  Yet  his  work,  compared  with 
theirs,  has  a  distinct  character  of  modernity.  It  may 
result  partly  from  the  absence  of  any  suggestion  of  the 
Romantic  spirit  in  the  placid,  simple  landscapes ;  but  is 
also  due,  particularly  in  later  examples,  to  the  increas- 
ing breadth  of  Daubigny's  brushwork.  Meier-Graefe 
has  drawn  attention  to  the  sketches  of  Constable,  as 
being  probably  the  example  for  this  freer  and  broader 
handling,  while  the  influence  of  Manet  and  his  follow- 
ers may  well  have  contributed  its  share.  In  an  early 
picture,  The  Timber  Wagon,  recently  sold  in  New 
York,  Daubigny  appears  as  the  draftsman  rather  than 
the  painter.  A  timber  wagon  is  approaching  up  a  slight 
incline,  bordered  with  banks  to  which  cling  the  finger- 
like  roots  of  beech  trees  that  are  just  beginning  to  don 
their  yellow  and  reddish  livery,  while  at  the  back  mead- 
ows spotted  with  trees  stretch  back  to  a  chateau.  The 
drawing,  particularly  of  the  trees,  exhibits  a  conscien- 
tious fidelity  to  the  natural  facts  that  is  extreme.  The 

C145] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

treatment  is  wholly  lacking  in  pictorial  synthesis;  and 
exhibits  a  dryness  and  hardness,  quite  unlike  the  rich 
and  juicy  handling  of  his  matured  style.  For  it  is 
Daubigny's  special  contribution  to^  inodem-laiidscape 
painting  that  he  adapted  the  loose  and  fliient-isethod 
of  Constable's  sketches  to  a  finished  picture.  It  led 
him  to  experimenting  with  very  large  canvases,  several 
of  which  were  standing  in  his  studio  at  his  death.  One 
of  them,  representing  a  shepherd  folding  his  flock  by 
moonlight  on  a  misty  night,  is  inclined  to  be  flat  and 
dull,  with  lack  of  air  or  luminosity ;  while  another,  show- 
ing a  stretch  of  brown  soil  broken  up  into  plots  of 
various  cultivation,  realizes  magnificently  the  salient 
features  of  the  receding  planes.  It  is  a  fine  example 
of  organic  construction;  of  the  under-building  of  the 
composition,  for  possibly  it  represents  an  unfinished 
canvas;  though,  even  so,  if  placed  like  a  mural  decora- 
tion far  enough  from  the  eye,  it  would  probably  ap- 
pear completely  self-sufficient.  For  admirers  of 
Daubigny  who  would  study  his  ability  as  a  landscape 
builder  and  the  means  employed,  a  visit  should  be  made 
to  the  Mesdag  Museum  at  the  Hague.  For  here  are 
examples  showing  various  stages  in  Daubigny's  method 
of  plotting,  constructing  and  completing  the  composi- 
tion. 

•  •••••• 

Constable's  example  having  drawn  attention  to  the 
Dutch  masters  of  the  seventeenth  century,  it  was  but 
a  question  of  time  when  French  artists  would  go  to 
Holland  itself  for  inspiration.  Constant  Troyon 
(1810-1865)  was  among  the  first  to  be  drawn  thither. 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  PAYSAGE  INTIME 

Already  he  had  displayed  a  decided  bias  for  animal 
painting;  it  was  therefore  natural  that  when  he  visited 
Holland  he  should  realize  their  pictorial  relation  to  land- 
scape. He  would  be  impressed  also  by  the  flat  polders 
stretching  to  the  limit  of  sight,  the  low  horizons  and 
high  vaulting  skies.  The  effect  of  these  mingled  im- 
pressions was  an  invigoration  and  broadening  of  his 
landscapes.  They  became  instinct  with  a  sense  of 
spaciousness.  The  scene  may  or  may  not  be  one  which 
involves  actual  distance  of  vision;  but  it  is  none  the 
less  enlarged  in  its  expression,  becoming  associated  with 
the  feeling  of  spaciousness.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
sky,  however  much  or  little  may  be  shown.  It  is  felt 
as  a  part  of  what  is  vast,  buoyant  with  alert  air,  stirred 
with  breeze  or  mellowed  with  large  warmth.  And  to 
this  wholesome  vigor  responds  the  earth,  teeming  with 
fecundity,  whereof  the  bulky  cattle  are  the  animate  ex- 
pression. According  with  these  qualities  is  the  im- 
personal character  of  Troyon's  landscape.  No  mood  of 
the  artist's  self  interrupts  their  ample  benignity,  the 
expression  of  the  Earth  sentiment.  It  is  because  of 
this  elemental  significance  that  Troyon  transcends  the 
almost  purely  naturalistic  landscapes  with  cattle  of 
his  pupil,  Emile  Van  Marcke  (1829-1890)  and  the 
latter's  daughter  and  pupil,  Madame  Marie  Dieterle. 
But  what  a  magnificent  synthesis  of  the  character  of 
animate  and  inanimate  nature  these  two  present,  so 
superior  in  technical  accomplishment  as  well  as  in  ex- 
pression and  beauty  of  color  to  the  more  photographic 
naturalism  of  Madame  Rosa  Bonheur  (1822-1899). 
Once  in  a  while  Charles  Jacque  (1813-1894)  sur- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

prises  us  by  the  grand  idyllic  feeling  of  an  upland  pas- 
ture, sculptured  upon  which  are  the  statuesque  forms  of 
a  shepherdess  and  her  flock.  More  often,  however,  it 
is  the  intimacy  of  some  stable,  silvered  uncertainly  by 
the  light  admitted  through  a  narrow  window  or  the 
varied  detail  of  a  farmyard,  busy  with  its  four-footed 
and  feathered  occupants  that  engages  him;  scenes  alive 
with  the  quiet  poetry  of  the  country  life.  Over  a  tech- 
nique that  betrays  the  feeling  of  a  sculptor  or  engraver 
rather  than  a  painter,  he  triumphs  by  sheer  force  of 
knowledge  and  love  of  animal  life.  But,  on  the  whole, 
his  most  artistic  work  is  comprised  in  etchings,  where  his 
burin  moves  with  fluency  and  the  medium  demands 
economy  of  means  and  consequently  a  more  suggestive 
synthesis. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MILLET  AND   SOME   OTHERS 

THE  Master-Builder  of  the  Barbizon  group  was 
Jean  Fraiwjois  Millet.  What  Rousseau  did 
for  pure  landscape  he  extended  to  include  the 
human  subject  and  advanced  Corot's  reconciliation  of 
the  Natural  and  Classic  into  immediate  relation  with 
modern  life.  Like  them,  he  informed  the  material  with 
the  spiritual;  but  his  imagination  was  more  embracing 
than  Rousseau's,  more  profound  than  Corot's;  withal, 
more  human  than  either  and  more  in  tune  with  his  time. 
He  was  the  first  artist  to  catch  the  voice  of  the  new  era 
and  to  set  aringing,  not  only  in  studios,  but  also  in  the 
consciousness  of  the  modern  world  the  new  message  of 
humanity  and  labor. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  the  incidents  of  his 
early  life;  boyhood  and  young  manhood  spent  upon 
the  hill-farm  of  Gruchy;  the  daily  routine  of  labor,  il- 
lumined by  the  influence  of  a  mother  from  whom  he 
learned  his  Bible  and  by  the  instruction  of  an  uncle  who 
taught  him  Latin  and  to  love  Virgil;  his  short  and  dis- 
mal studentship  under  the  classicalist,  Delaroche;  his 
early  marriage  and  effort  to  live  by  painting  little 
nudes ;  then  his  retreat  to  Barbizon  and  gradual  discov- 
ery of  himself  in  his  first  characteristic  picture,  The 

£149] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Winnower.  Hitherto,  in  his  efforts  to  be  an  artist,  he 
had  struggled  against  his  own  nature,  trying  to  put 
himself  in  the  skin  of  others;  now,  at  Barbizon,  he  had 
resumed  the  experience  of  his  early  life.  Henceforth 
he  would  paint  only  what  he  understood  and  sympa- 
thized with.  Already  this  rude  peasant  of  the  picture, 
as  he  stoops  his  head  over  his  toil,  draws  back  his 
shoulders  to  balance  the  forward  thrust  of  the  arms  and 
bends  his  knees  to  relieve  the  weight  of  the  sieve,  pro- 
claims his  author's  mastery  in  a  new  expression  of  age- 
old  principles  of  art.  For  its  kinship  is  Greek. 

In  later  years  Millet  said  of  Theocritus,  whose  poetry 
shared  his  affection  with  that  of  Virgil,  Shakespeare 
and  Burns:  "Theocritus  makes  it  evident  to  me  that 
one  is  never  more  Greek  than  when  one  simply  renders 
^  one's  own  impressions,  let  them  come  whence  they  may." 
The  words  are  a  curious  echo  of  the  already  quoted 
extract  from  Shaftesbury's  writings,  published  in  1711: 
"We  should  emulate  the  Greeks,  not  imitate  them. 
We  are  most  like  the  Greeks  when  we  are  most 
ourselves."  Already  in  The  Winnower  Millet  exhib- 
ited by  instinct  the  truth  of  what  he  later  formulated  in 
words. 

The  picture  is  the  product  of  instinct :  the  source 
from  which  we  are  beginning  to  realize  that  all  great 
achievements  spring.  Millet's  instinct,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  Greeks,  led  him  to  study  nature:  that  aspect  of 
nature  which  he  knew,  under  which  his  own  early  life  had 
been  naturally  developed;  and  he  learned  from  nature, 
as  the  Greeks  did,  her  own  rhythm.  The  movement 
of  The  Winnower  is  the  result  of  a  perfect  coordina- 

[150  3 


THE  SOWER 


MILLET 


MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

tion  of  the  several  parts  of  the  body  to  the  action, 
demanded  by  the  toil  if  it  is  to  be  efficiently  performed. 
There  is  the  requisite  conservation  as  well  as  expenditure 
of  energy;  the  absolute  adjustment  of  contrasted  and 
repeated  muscular  action  and  reaction;  without,  it  is 
true,  the  splendid  dash  of  The  Sower,  but  in  its  slower 
and  more  constrained  effort,  no  less  perfect.  The  eyes 
of  Millet's  contemporaries,  trained  by  classicalism  to 
look  only  at  contours  and  to  estimate  the  drawing  of  a 
figure  by  the  sculptural  quality  of  the  outside  lines,  saw 
in  this  one  only  a  barbarous  contradiction  of  what  it  held 
sacred.  For  The  Winnower  is  not  an  expression  of 
lines,  but  of  mass  in  movement.  And  this  is  the  primary 
virtue  of  Greek  sculpture ;  the  beauty  of  contours  being 
superadded.  But  the  academic  art  of  Millet's  day  re- 
versed this;  producing,  for  example,  the  faultless  out- 
lines and  the  nullity  of  mass  of  a  Bouguereau. 

What  is  the  explanation  of  Millet's  immediate  re- 
covery of  the  principles  of  Greek  art?  First,  surely, 
that  he  allowed  his  instinct  to  lead  him;  ignorant, 
probably,  at  the  time  of  whither  it  was  leading;  but, 
secondly,  and  more  directly  definitive,  that  the  nature 
which  he  represented  he  had  experienced  in  his  own 
body.  He  himself  had  winnowed  wheat  and  exercised 
his  intelligence  to  discover  at  once  the  easiest  and  the 
most  efficient  way  of  doing  it.  To  natural  instinct  had 
been  added  the  acquired  instinct.  What  another  artist, 
differently  brought  up,  but  with  corresponding  de- 
termination to  arrive  at  the  simple  truth  would  have  had 
to  search  for  with  long  observation  and  close  analysis, 
be  rendered  as  an  immediate  and  first  hand  impression, 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

He  could  actually  put  himself  inside  the  winnower's  skin 
and  participate  in  his  action. 

This  raises  an  interesting  question:  How  far  is  the 
capacity  of  an  actor  needful  to  a  painter?  For  it  is 
clear  that  few  painters  start  with  Millet's  advantage  of 
rendering  impressions  with  which  their  personal  experi- 
ence has  rendered  them  familiar.  Usually  it  is  only 
by  imagining  the  sensation,  that  a  painter  can  reproduce 
it  in  action.  But  how  many  have  this  gift,  which  is 
essentially  the  actor's?  ..Very  fewx  it  is  to  be  judged,  if 
one  studies  the  majority  of  figure  subjectjs.  For  in 
them  the  figures  are  merely  attitudinizing;  there  is  no 
real  action,  still  less  the  continuity  of  action  that  makes 
for  movement  and  even  less  frequently  the  coordina- 
tion of  movement  which  evolves  the  final  excellence  of 
rhythm.  The  average  painter  is  dependent  on  his 
model  and  abuses  the  latter  for  the  deficiency  which  is 
inherent  in  himself.  For  no  artist,  whatever  his  me- 
dium may  be,  can  reproduce  what  he  himself  cannot  feel. 

Millet  in  his  Paris  days  walked  the  Louvre.  It  was 
there  that  he  fed  his  imagination,  following  again  the 
instinct  which  lead  him  to  what  was  fundamental  in  the 
great  art  of  the  past.  Meanwhile  he  was  unquestion- 
ably influenced  by  the  modern  master  Daumier,  whose 
drawings  were  exposed  in  every  kiosk  on  the  boulevards. 

Daumier  was  the  first  of  his  contemporaries  to  revive 
the  method  of  structure-building  that  characterized  the 
drawing  of  Rembrandt,  Hals  and  Velasquez,  and  in  do- 
ing so  was  the  originator  of  the  principle  enforced  later 
by  Manet  and  the  Impressionists.  He  constructed  in 
masses,  securing  by  a  logical  coordination  of  dark  and 

rws] 


MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

light  an  illusion  of  modeling  even  in  flat  planes.  In 
his  black  and  white  work  he  added  the  expressional 
force  of  eloquent  and  decisive  line;  but  it  is  always  the 
mass  that  determines  the  quality  of  the  line  as  well  as 
its  direction.  The  line  instead  of  enclosing  empty 
space  is  the  definitive  margin  of  the  mass.  And  the 
latter  is  designed  to  interpret  action,  movement  and 
rhythm.  It  is  not  the  external  shape  but  the  inherent 
life  of  the  form  that  Daumier  was  bent  on  interpreting. 
His  method  shears  off  superficialities  and  lays  bare  the 
structural  expression.  The  result  is  vitally  and  char- 
acteristically expressional. 

To  recognize  Millet's  indebtedness  to  Daumier  is  not 
to  rob  the  Barbizon  artist  of  credit  for  original  crea- 
tiveness.  One  might  as  well  think  it  belittles  him  to 
acknowledge  that  he  gained  from  the  study  of  Greek 
art.  For  while  Millet  profited  by  the  example  of  the 
latter  and  of  Daumier,  he  was  independent  of  both  in 
his  personal  interpretation  of  the  principles.  Note,  for 
instance,  how  he  applied  the  principle  of  distributed 
movement.  It  is  an  observation  of  Rodin's  that  no  part 
of  the  form  can  express  the  movement  of  the  whole. 
This  must  be  distributed  in  fractional  quantities 
throughout  all  the  parts.  Already  The  Winnower 
proclaims  this  principle,  which  again  and  again  sup- 
plies the  clue  to  Millet's  mastery  of  construction,  until 
it  reaches  its  most  triumphant  expression  in  The  Sower 
and  in  his  drawings  and  etchings. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  totality  of  the  movement  is 
distributed  between  two  or  more  figures;  in  the  cele- 
brated example  of  The  Gleaners,  between  three.  One 

C153] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

of  the  women  is  walking  with  body  bent  forward  from 
the  hips  and  face  intent  on  the  ground,  searching  for 
an  ear;  another,  holding  a  handful  of  wheat  behind  her 
back,  is  doubled  forward  over  the  ground  reaching 
down,  while  the  third,  stooping  still  lower  and  resting 
her  handful  of  wheat  on  one  knee  is  in  the  act  of  grasp- 
ing. The  stretch  of  her  arm  is  more  upright  than  that 
of  the  other  stooping  woman;  and  the  whole  action  of 
her  body  is  more  crouching  upon  its  lower  part,  more 
conserving  of  its  force,  even  in  the  act  of  accomplish- 
ment. The  greatest  expenditure  of  force  is  in  the 
movement  just  previous  to  accomplishment,  represented 
in  the  action  of  the  other  stooping  woman,  while  the 
third  figure,  alleviating  the  weight  of  her  bent  back  by 
holding  her  hands  above  her  knees,  interprets  the  an- 
ticipatory action.  By  studying  merely  a  photograph 
of  the  picture  one  can  see  how  the  total  action  of  glean- 
ing is  distributed  among  the  figures,  so  that  a  wave  of 
coordinated  movement  passes  freely  and  naturally 
through  the  group.  Shut  from  view  any  one  of  the 
figures  and  at  once  the  fluidity  is  checked ;  the  chord  of 
character-expression  snapped. 

The  landscape  of  The  Gleaners  involves  a  distant 
view  of  ricks  and  harvesting,  touched  in  minutely  with 
so  exact  a  characterization  that  it  recalls  the  mastery 
with  which  Rembrandt  realized  in  his  etchings  the  char- 
acter of  level  vistas  of  landscape.  For  in  admiration 
of  Millet's  figure-work  it  is  easy  to  overlook  his  merit 
as  a  landscapist.  This  also  appears  to  best  advantage 
in  his  drawings  and  etchings.  For  in  them  he  proves 
not  only  his  constructive  genius  in  mass-building  and 


fe 

o 


MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

realizing  character,  but  also  his  expressional  ability  to 
render  the  spiritual  impression  of  the  scene.  For  here 
he  is  not  hampered  by  the  comparative  poverty  of  his 
color-scheme  or  by  his  deficiency  as  a  brushman,  which 
too  often  resulted  in  his  painted  surfaces  being  confused 
in  handling  and  like  greasy  wool  in  texture.  The 
drawings,  on  the  contrary,  exhibit  his  knowledge  and 
feeling  unimpaired. 

The  character  of  the  knowledge  and  the  quality  of 
the  feeling  are  alike  determined  by  Millet's  tempera- 
ment of  profound  earnestness.  He  himself  said  that 
the  cry  of  the  soil  (le  cri  de  la  terre)  was  ever  in  his 
soul.  When  once  he  had  resolved  to  barken  to  it  he 
set  his  whole  life  and  his  work  to  its  pitch.  The  mean- 
ing of  the  cry  has  been  sometimes  misunderstood.  It 
was  not,  as  Millet  heard  it,  the  stifled  moan  of  laboring 
peasants  sweating  out  their  meager  lives  in  the  fields 
of  Barbizon.  It  was  the  cry  of  the  soil  itself,  of  the 
earth-mother  calling  to  humanity.  The  peasant  was 
but  the  symbol  of  the  universal.  Millet  was  not  a  sen- 
timentalist. More  than  anything  he  dreaded  the  im- 
putation of  emotionalism ;  and  it  is  full  of  irony  that  his 
remark  about  The  Angelus,  that  he  wished  people  to 
seem  to  hear  the  church  bell,  should  have  led  to  so  much 
sentimental  vaporing  over  this  picture.  Here,  as  al- 
ways, he  was  simply  trying  to  visualize  the  character  of 
the  scene;  and,  since  its  momentary  aspect  was  affected 
by  the  sound,  he  wished  to  make  the  spectator  conscious 
of  the  latter  as  explanatory  of  the  character  and  expres- 
sion. Perhaps  without  the  addition  of  the  name  the 
subject  would  not  have  explained  itself,  which  cannot 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

be  said  of  any  other  work  of  Millet's;  a  fact  that  re- 
duces the  merit  of  The  Angelus.  That  the  artist 
abetted  this  insufficiency  by  talking  of  a  bell  was  a  mis- 
fortune, since  it  wrapped  the  already  mellifluous  word 
Angelus  in  a  haze  of  idealized  sentiment,  which  has 
spread  between  Millet  and  the  public,  blinding  the  lat- 
ter to  his  real  greatness. 

Millet's  imagination  was  of  the  philosophic  cast 
which  precipitates  the  local  and  the  temporary  and  ex- 
tracts from  them  the  essence  of  the  elemental  and  uni- 
versal. Inured  to  toil  from  his  youth,  he  was  not  in 
revolt  against  labor.  It  was  man's  necessary  share  in 
that  universal  scheme  of  labor  which  held  the  stars  in 
their  courses  and  made  earth  yield  her  fruits  in  due 
season.  Everything  was  coordinated  on  a  universal 
plan.  The  peasants  working  in  the  fields  of  Barbizon 
were  at  once  a  part  and  a  symbol  of  the  whole  order. 
Beauty,  as  Millet  understood  it,  was  not  to  be  looked 
for  in  their  faces  and  figures,  but  in  their  cooperation 
with  the  divine  scheme.  His  ideal  of  beauty  was  the 
harmony  of  fitness  and  coordination  and  Millet  found 
it  expressed  in  the  lives  of  the  peasants  as  they  con- 
tributed their  daily  stint  to  the  world's  routine.  Con- 
servative by  instinct,  he  pondered  the  grandeur  of  this 
routine,  stretching  back  in  endless  perspective  through 
the  vista  of  the  ages;  profoundly  serious,  he  invested 
its  significance  with  a  kind  of  fatalism.  The  idea  of  a 
future  of  happier  routine  through  labor  and  life  being 
more  efficiently  and  harmoniously  coordinated  escaped 
him.  It  was  not  as  a  prophet  of  progress  that  Millet 
enriched  the  world,  but  as  the  constructor  of  founda- 

D56] 


MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

tions  on  which  progress  must  be  achieved.  His  example 
tended  to  enforce  the  new  ideas  of  the  dignity  of  man- 
hood and  labor  and  the  need  of  building  the  ideal  on 
the  practical,  everyday  things  of  life.  The  influence 
of  his  philosophic  acceptance  of  life  has  been  none  the 
less  potent  that  it  was  with  him  an  instinct  and  not  a 
thesis  to  be  preached.  He  preached  only  by  example; 
and  the  lesson,  because  of  its  indirectness,  has  gone  wider 

and  more  deeply  home. 

•  ••••»• 

Millet's  influence  upon  art,  however,  has  possibly  been 
less  embracing  and  profound.  It  was  only  the  surface 
of  his  influence  that  average  painters  could  skim  off. 
They  imitated  his  choice  of  peasant  subjects  and  es- 
tablished from  his  example  a  cult  of  the  ugly;  but  the 
grand  style  of  his  technique  was  as  far  beyond  them  as 
the  scope  of  his  philosophic  seriousness.  But  Natural- 
ism was  in  the  air.  The  scientist  was  applying  himself 
with  a  new  zeal  to  the  study  of  natural  phenomena; 
substituting  for  much  that  had  been  empiric  a  closer 
analysis  of  facts ;  the  mechanician  under  the  impetus  of 
the  discovery  of  steam-power  was  coordinating  labor  and 
nature  on  a  new  basis,  and  a  Balzac  had  captivated  the 
world  by  his  presentments  of  everyday  life  and  charac- 
ter. The  painters  could  not  do  otherwise  than  follow 
suit.  Naturalism  was  the  vogue  and  where  else  but 
among  peasants  was  to  be  found  the  nearest  approach 
to  nature  ?  It  was  so  that  they  interpreted  and  followed 
the  example  of  Millet. 

Many,  however,  followed  the  example  of  Jules  Breton 
(1827-1906)  and  carried  out  into  the  fields  their 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

academic  predilections  or  their  citified  sentiment  con- 
cerning milkmaids  and  haymakers,  peopling  their  can- 
vas-countrysides with  the  personages  of  the  Opera-Com- 
ique.  On  the  other  hand,  many  followed  Jules  Bastien- 
Lepage  (1848-1884)  in  his  presentment  of  the  crude 
and  homely,  qualified  by  a  little  sentiment.  The  latter 
helped  him  with  the  public,  while  his  frank  naturalness 
commended  him  to  painters.  He  so  completely  fitted 
the  conditions  of  his  time  that  he  enjoyed  a  reputation 
which,  except  in  the  case  of  his  portraits,  has  scarcely 
been  maintained.  To-day  we  find  his  peasant  pictures 
not  only  lacking  in  style,  but  also  deficient  in  organic 
composition,  little  more  than  cross-cuts  of  life ;  and  the 
crudeness  of  their  naturalism  has  lost  its  original  fasci- 
nation. For  since  his  time  there  has  been  a  rebound  to 
Realism. 

It  was  the  wont  to  regard  Naturalism  and  Realism  as 
practically  identical  terms.  But  the  gradual  recogni- 
tion of  two  points  of  view  in  the  study  of  nature  has 
made  it  convenient  to  distinguish  between  them  as  con- 
noting different  motives.  A  man  may  study,  as  Bastien- 
Lepage  did,  the  natural  phenomena  solely  with  reference 
to  the  facts  themselves ;  or,  like  Millet,  view  them  in  re- 
lation to  some  larger  horizon  of  ideas.  To  differentiate 
their  motives  we  will  call  the  former  a  naturalist;  the 
latter,  a  realist.  This  use  of  realism  or  realist  is  simply 
a  return  to  the  old  phraseology  of  the  Realist  philos- 
ophers who,  in  opposition  to  the  Nominalists,  maintained 
that  the  totality  of  a  conception  was  more  important 
than  its  component  parts;  that  humanity,  for  example, 
is  the  reality;  the  individuals  composing  it  being,  as  it 

C158] 


MILLET  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

were,  merely  incidental  to  the  main  idea.  So  to-day 
we  may  style  him  a  realist  who  correlates  the  facts  of  life 
to  the  large  principles  of  elemental  and  universal  signif- 
icance. It  was  the  example  of  Ibsen  that  chiefly  helped 
to  promote  this  terminological  distinction;  and  he,  as  a 
realist,  is  open  to  the  same  criticism  as  Millet.  Both 
viewed  life  from  its  darker  side;  although  in  doing  so 
they  established  principles  upon  which  a  happier  con- 
dition of  existence  may  be  built  in  the  future. 

Judged  by  this  distinction,  most  of  the  French 
painters  of  peasants  and  ouvriers  are  naturalists,  whose 
work  will  not  survive  alongside  that  of  Millet  and  the 
few  others  who  have  represented  their  subjects  in  rela- 
tion to  larger  issues.  It  is  difficult,  for  example,  to  ex- 
pect that  the  coming  generation  will  be  interested  in  the 
local  gloom  of  Jean  Fra^ois  Raffaelli's  (1850-)  pic- 
tures of  the  Paris  ouvrier,  whereas  the  Breton  subjects 
of  Charles  Cottet  (1863-) ,  notwithstanding  their  gloom 
and  intensely  local  feeling,  involve  a  relation  to  eternal 
issues  of  humanity,  which  should  secure  the  interest  of 
posterity.  Posthumous  fame  may  also  be  anticipated 
for  the  peasant  pictures  of  Lucien  Simon  (1861-)  who 
not  only  views  his  subject  in  relation  to  a  wide  horizon 
but  also  reinforces  this  stimulating  appeal  by  a  vigorous 
and  characterful  technique.  He  is  with  little  doubt  the 
strongest  brushman  of  the  peasant  painters  of  France, 
and  both  in  portraiture  and  domestic  genre  has  also  done 
work  of  notable  force  and  charm. 


[159] 


CHAPTER  XII 

BEALISM G.   COURBET 

BY   the   middle   of   the   nineteenth   century,    in 
France  as  well  as  in  England,  the  achievements 
of  science  and  mechanics  and  the  newly  devel- 
oped sense  of  individualism  had  dominated  the  spirit  of 
the  age.     Dogma  was  discredited;  the  old  belief  under- 
<r___jjiinded;  the  world  was  looking  for  "truth"  in  the  per- 
I        ceptible  facts  of  knowledge;  religion  was  being  des- 
iccated by  rationalism  or  discarded  in  favor  of  material- 
ism.    In  the  specific  field  of  painting  the  representative 
of   this    changed   attitude   toward    life    was    Gustave 
Courbet  (1819-1878). 

At  the  World's  Exposition  of  1855,  Courbet  was  dis- 
satisfied with  the  official  treatment  of  his  pictures.  Ac- 
cordingly he  removed  them  and  exhibited  separately  out- 
side the  grounds  in  a  wooden  hut,  which  bore  the  con- 
spicuous legend,  "Realism — G.  Courbet."  This  was 
four  years  after  the  appearance  in  the  Salon  of  The 
Stonebreakers  and  Funeral  at  Ornans.  He  had  come 
up  to  Paris  in  1839.  Refusing  to  submit  his  inde- 
pendence to  the  control  of  any  teacher,  he  made  the 
rounds  of  the  galleries  and  from  the  example  of  the  old 
masters  gradually  acquired  a  style  of  his  own.  Mean- 
while, his  criticism  of  present  and  past  artists  was  out- 

£160] 


REALISM— G.  COURBET 

spoken  and  scathing.  He  admired  Ribera,  Zurbaran 
and  Velasquez,  was  drawn  toward  Ostade  and  venerated 
Holbein ;  but  could  not  tolerate  Raphael,  whom  he  held 
chiefly  responsible  for  "the  fever  of  imitation"  which, 
he  asserted,  was  prostrating  the  art  of  France.  To- 
ward the  end  of  the  forties  when  Ingres  was  at  the 
height  of  his  power  and  Couture's  Decadence  of  the 
Romans  had  created  a  sensation  and  Jean  Louis  Hamon 
(1821-1874)  and  others  of  the  so-called  "Neo-Greek" 
group  were  producing  their  pretty  little  china-painted 
pictures  of  classicalistic  idyls,  Courbet's  tirades  against 
authority  and  classicalism  had  made  him  a  marked  man. 
Students  gathered  round  him  and  echoed  his  free- 
thought.  For  as  yet  Millet,  working  quietly  in  Barbi- 
zon,  Was  unheeded,  and  the  time  demanded  somebody 
who  would  trumpet  the  claims  of  the  modern  naturalistic 
spirit:  The  man  was  found  in  Courbet. 

"Courbet  announced  himself  a  realist ;  and  possibly  he 
was  one  in  the  sense  which  has  been  defined  above,  al- 
though his  theories  of  art  may  at  first  sight  suggest 
that  he  was  an  out-and-out  naturalist.  For  he  is  on 
record  as  declaring  that  "the  principle  of  realism  is  the 
negation  of  the  ideal."  But  in  this  repudiation  of  the 
ideal  as  something  which  the  painter  should  shun,  he 
must  be  understood  to  refer  to  the  kind  of  ideal  that 
was  held  up  as  a  nostrum  by  the  academicians  of  his 
day,  as  it  still  is  in  ours.  Courbet  had  no  use  for  nymphs 
in  cheese-cloth  draperies,  posing  in  allegory;  nor  for 
religious  pictures  representing  after  the  Italian  manner 
men  and  women  supported  on  clouds,  angels  and  views 
of  Heaven,  nor  for  the  posing  and  paraphernalia  of 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

resuscitated  historical  scenes.  For,  as  he  said,  "realism 
can  only  exist  by  the  representation  of  things  which  the 
artist  can  see  and  handle.  Painting  is  an  entirely  phy- 
sical language,  and  an  abstract,  invisible,  non-existent 
object  does  not  come  within  its  province.  The  grand 
painting  which  we  have  stands  in  contradiction  to  our 
social  conditions;  and  ecclesiastical  painting,  in  con- 
tradiction to  the  spirit  of  the  century.  It  is  nonsensical 
for  painters  of  more  or  less  talent  to  dish  up  themes  in 
.which  they  have  no  belief,  themes  which  could  only 
,have  flowered  in  some  spot  and  epoch  other  than  our 
own.  Better  paint  railway  stations  with  views  of  the 
places  through  which  we  travel,  with  likenesses  of 
men  through  whose  birthplaces  we  pass,  with 
houses,  mines  and  manufactories.  For  these 
saints  and  miracles  of  the  nineteenth  century."  In  fact, 
it  was  with  pseudo-idealism,  the  threadbare  lerr-over 
of  the  past,  that  he  quarreled.  Meanwhile,  his  allusjfcn 
to  the  "saints  and  miracles"  seems  to  show  that  he  could 
view  the  facts  of  things  in  relation  to  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  the  highest  good  of  humanity.  For  he 
lived  to  "arrive  at  the  emancipation  of  the  individual 
and,  finally,  at  democracy."  That  was  his  ideal  to 
which  he  sought  to  correlate  his  life  and  work. 
Whether  or  not  he  would  have  admitted  it,  he  was  an 
idealist  in  what  is  coming  to  be  the  modern  understand- 
ing of  the  word;  one  whose  ideal  is  the  betterment  of 
the  race  and  who  looks  for  its  fulfilment  in  the  actual 
facts  of  life.  As  he  said,  "My  object  is  to  be  not  merely 
a  painter,  but  a  man.  In  a  word  to  practise  living  art 
is  the  compass  of  my  design."  These  are  live  words 


REALISM— G.  COURBET 

and  almost  sufficient  of  themselves  to  prove  that  Courbet 
was  a  realist  idealist. 

But  let  the  evidence  of  his  paintings  speak.  .The 
Stonebreakers — an  old  man  resting  on  one  knee  as 
he  raises  a  hammer  over  a  heap  of  stones  and  a  young 
man  adjusting  his  sinewy  frame  to  the  weight  of  a 
basket,  filled  with  broken  stones — represents  the  studied 
observation  and  truthful  rendering  of  facts.  For  this 
reason  the  critics  found  it  "an  excessively  commonplace 
subject."  But  already  in  the  figure  of  the  younger 
man  may  be  discerned  something  of  the  joy  in  physical 
force  and  wholesomeness  which  is  characteristic  of  this 
artist's  work,  himself  a  man  of  size  above  the  average 
and  possessed  of  great  bodily  strength  as  well  as  mental 
vigor.  It  is,  however,  mental  force  rather  than  the 
physical  which  characterizes  the  other  picture  of  the 
same  year — the  Funeral  at  Ornans.  For  Courbet 

0 

stripped  the  subject  of  all  sentiment  and  ceremony; 
bared  it  to  the  bone;  and  in  doing  so  has  lifted  its  sig- 
nificance above  the  local  and  the  personal.  For  death, 
viewed  in  the  large,  is  but  a  temporary  disarrangement 
of  the  routine  of  life ;  a  momentary  cessation  from  activ- 
ity on  the  part  of  the  living,  while  they  pay  their  last 
respects  to  the  dead,  and  then  an  immediate  resumption 
of  life's  routine.  Meanwhile,  behind  this  particular 
group  of  folk,  gathered  in  front  of  the  grave  at  Or- 
nans, extends  a  high  horizon  line  of  hill,  interrupted 
only  by  a  slight  depression.  Its  monotony  is  eloquent 
of  that  indifference  of  the  outside  world.  One  death 
more  or  less,  what  matters?  We  must  all  die;  the  world 
is  for  the  quick,  not  the  dead. 

[163] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

But  the  critics  were  even  more  scandalized  by  subjects 
such  as  Grisettes  Lying  on  the  Bank  of  the  Seine. 
Where  was  the  trite  coquetry  with  which  other  paint- 
ers had  invested  these  young  persons,  as  they  tripped 
the  streets  with  piquant  demureness  and  lifted  their 
skirts  to  reveal  the  neat  shoes  and  a  hint  of  stockings? 
Courbet  has  "intentionally  placed  these  girls  in  the  most 
unrefined  attitudes  that  they  might  appear  as  trivial 
as  possible."  One  can  fancy  Courbet  retorting  that 
many  of  these  girls  are  trivial  and  that  when  they  get 
away  from  the  city  they  lay  aside  their  little  artifices 
and  sprawl  in  simple  animal  contentment.  They  may 
not  be  refined,  but  they  are  natural  and  wholesome. 
So  too  are  Courbet's  nudes. 

The  example,  Le  Reveil,  has  been  selected  for  re- 
production here  (p.  161)  because,  while  one  of  the  fig- 
ures illustrates  these  qualities  the  other  is  curiously 
and  unusually  classicalistic  in  pose  and  feeling.  It  re- 
minds one  of  the  fact  that  it  was  through  study  of  the 
old  masters  that  Courbet  graduated  into  his  naturalistic 
style.  And  here  something  of  the  process  still  lingers 
in  the  result.  Meanwhile,  the  recumbent  figure  in  pose 
and  treatment  recalls  the  superb  nude  which  has  been 
lent  to  the  Metropolitan  Museum.  It  is  a  panegyric 
on  the  glory  of  sound,  abundant  physicality;  the  basis 
on  which  rests  the  highest  steeple-building  of  the  race. 
What  says  Browning,  himself  a  man  as  well  as  a  poet, 
speaking  through  the  mouth  of  Fra  Lippo  Lippi— 

"The  beauty  and  the  wonder  and  the  power, 
The  shapes  of  things,  their  colors,  lights  and  shades 
Changes,  surprises — and  God  made  it  all !" 


THE  GUITARIST 


EDOUARD  MANET 


METROPOLITAN  MFSF.UM  OF  ART 


REALISM— G.  COURBET 

In  his  ability  to  realize  this  through  the  human  form 
Courbet  takes  rank  as  one  of  the  greatestpainters  of 
the  nude  during  the  nineteenth  century. 

Probably,  however,  it  is  in  his  marines  and  landscapes 


that  Courbet  reaches  his  highest  expression.  They  are 
entTfely^ffee  from  the  suspicion,  occasionally  suggested 
in  the  figure  subjects,  that  embeter  le  bourgeois  was 
lurking  in  the  artist's  mind.  The  finest  of  them  are 
equally  free  from  local  suggestion;  they  are  abstracts 
of  the  elemental  in  nature;  of  force,  vastness  and  the 
solemnity  of  silence.  His  seas  are  not  invaded  by  ships ; 
no  dwellings  interrupt  the  solitude  of  the  shore;  shore 
and  sea  wage  conflict  or  lie  placidly  the  one  by  the 
other  in  sole  presence  of  the  sky.  Again,  what  a  sug- 
gestion of  immemorial  age,  hidden  vastness  and  un- 
broken solitude  pervades  his  forest  glades!  The  deer 
rest  under  the  shadow  of  the  fern  or  bask  in  the  patches 
of  sunlight;  the  stags  at  rutting  time  meet  and  fight; 
over  the  carpet  of  snow  the  doe  seeks  the  watering-place. 
Sometimes  the  hunter  wakes  the  silence  with  his  horn 
and  his  hounds  violate  the  solitude ;  but  for  the  most  part 
Courbet's  forests  are  the  undisturbed  haunts  of  the 
forest  creatures,  as  if  man  were  not. 


C165] 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MANET  AND   IMPRESSIONISM 

MANET  was  needed  to  complete  Courbet. 
The  latter  had  brought  the  motive  of  paint- 
ing into  touch  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  lead- 
ing the  painter  to  look  for  his  subjects  in  the  world  of 
actual  sight  and  to  treat  them  solely  in  accordance  with 
the  facts  of  nature;  but  he  had  not  furnished  the  ex- 
ample of  a  technique  fitted  to  represent  the  vision  nat- 
urally. His  own,  derived  from  the  old  masters,  still 
relied  on  chiaroscuro  for  modeling  and  on  tonality  to 
draw  the  parts  into  a  unity  of  ensemble.  But  in  nature 
the  colors,  so  far  from  presenting  a  tonal  scheme,  are  apt 
to  be  characterized  by  contrasts  and  yet  the  effect  is 
harmonious  because  the  antipathies  of  color  are  dis- 
solved in  the  lighted  air  which  envelopes  them.  It  was 
not  until  the  painter  was  able  to  emulate  the  unifying 
effect  of  light  and  introduce  the  illusion  of  circum- 
ambient air  into  the  spaces  of  his  composition  that  he 
could  represent  the  natural  phenomenon  naturally. 
This  was  Manet's  contribution  to  the  development  of 
modern  painting. 

Edouard  Manet  was  born  in  Paris  in  1832,  in  the 
Rue  Bonaparte,  opposite  the  Ecole  des  Beaux  Arts. 
After  spending  nearly  six  years  in  Couture's  studio  he 
made  a  progress  through  the  galleries  of  Germany, 

[lee] 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

Vienna,  Florence,  Venice  and  Rome.  Thus  he  emulated 
the  independence  of  Courbet  and,  like  the  latter,  be- 
gan by  painting  pictures  which  reflected  the  influence 
of 'various  old  masters,  particularly  the  Flemish  and 
Caravaggio.  Then  he  discovered  Velasquez.  Just  as 
some  forty  years  earlier  the  example  of  Constable  had 
fertilized  the  development  of  French  Romanticism  and 
the  School  of  Pay  sage  Intime,  so  now  in  1857  a  collec- 
tion of  Velasquez'  work  in  the  Manchester  International 
Exhibition  was  the  immediate  cause  which  ultimately 
resulted  in  French  Impressionism.  Sir  William  Ster- 
ling-Maxwell's "Life  of  Velasquez"  was  translated  into 
French  by  G.  Brunet,  and  provided  with  a  catalogue 
raisonne  by  W.  Burger;  the  Spanish  artist  began  to 
occupy  the  pens  of  Charles  Blanc,  Theophile  Gautier 
and  Paul  Lef  ort,  and  the  name  of  Velasquez  resounded 
through  the  studios. 

To  this  new  influence  Manet  was  the  first  to  respond. 
In  the  early  sixties  appeared  a  number  of  pictures  from 
his  brush  which  proved  how  thoroughly  he  had  absorbed 
the  principles  presented  by  the  examples  of  Velasquez 
in  the  Louvre.  Three  of  these  early  works  by  Manet 
are  now  in  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York:  The 
Guitarist,  The  Boy  with  the  Sword  and  The  Angels 
at  the  Tomb  of  Christ.  The  most  signal  example  of 
the  period  is  Olympia  of  the  Louvre;  a  nude,  whose 
white  figure  is  displayed  upon  the  white  sheet  that  covers 
the  couch,  while  a  negress  dressed  in  red  stands  in  the 
rear,  holding  a  bouquet  of  flowers,  surrounded  by  white 
paper.  It  now  hangs  near  the  Odalisque  Bathing  by 
Ingres,  thus  emphasizing  the  completeness  of  the  ?£= 

£1671] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

volt  from  classicalism  involved  in.  Manet's  picture.  The 
latter  had  been  preceded  two  years  earlier  by  The  Picnic, 
in  which  Manet  translated  into  modern  terms  a  subject 
often  used  by  the  Venetians;  namely,  two  young  men 
in  the  dress  of  the  day,  seated  on  the  bank  of  a  river 
beside  a  nude  woman,  while  another  woman,  clothed 
only  in  a  chemise,  is  splashing  in  the  water.  It  is  not 
difficult  to  realize  the  howl  of  indignation  and  derision 
with  which  the  academic  camp  and  the  public,  follow- 
ing in  its  suit,  greeted  these  two  pictures.  Not  with- 
standing the  support  of  Zola,  Charles  Ephrussi,  Dur- 
anty  and  other  critics,  Manet  had  to  face  a  storm  similar 
to  that  which  had  assaulted  Courbet's  Funeral  at 
Ornans  and  the  early  works  of  Delacroix. 

What,  up  to  this  point,  in  his  following  of  Velasquez, 
had  Manet  accomplished?  In  the  first  place  he  had 
freed  himself  from  traditionary  subservience  to  "interest 
of  subject,"  and  had  asserted  the  painter's  right  to  be 
interested,  if  he  chose,  solely  in  the  pictorial  rendering. 
He  had  also  cut  loose  from  the  splendors  of  Rubens, 
the  color-wealth  of  the  Romanticists  and  the  frigid 
beauty  of  line  of  the  classicalists.  His  subjects,  viewed 
in  a  cool,  evenly  diffused  light,  presented  the  sober 
range  of  hues  in  which  blacks  and  whites  and  silvery 
grays  are  interspersed  discreetly  with  blues  and  choice 
tones  of  red.  The  composition  is  not  disposed  upon 
any  geometric  plan  or  made  to  yield  lines  of  grandeur' 
or  grace,  but  is  determined  solely  by  the  motive  of  dec- 
orating the  canvas.  The  forms  are  painted  with  a  big 
brush  in  flat  broad  planes  which  admit  no  chiaroscuro 
and  yet  suggest  plasticity.  This  results  from  the  ac- 

[168] 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

curate  discrimination  of  the  values  of  planes  and  hues, 
the  exact  rendering  of  the  quantity  of  light  contained 
in  and  reflected  from  each.  Thus  an  illusion  has  been 
created  of  the  actual  action  of  light  and  accordingly  of 
atmospheric  perspective  and  of  air  surrounding  the  full 
spaces  and  filling  the  empty  ones  of  the  composition. 

For,  in  the  second  place,  Manet  through  the  example 
of  Velasquez  had  discovered  a  way  of  looking  at  his 
subject  which  was  entirely  new  in  modern  painting  and 
precisely  suited  to  the  needs  of  its  development.  In  the 
words  of  Meier-Graefe,  he  "naturalized  the  instincts"  of? 
the  painter.  He  taught  him  to  look  at  nature  through 
his  own  eyes  instead  of  through  the  medium  of  pictures ; 
to  paint  j^hat_he  sees  rather  than  what  he  knows  the 
subject  involves:  and  to  paint  only  so  much  as  his  eye 
embraces  in  a  single  vision ;  in  fact,  to  render  the  totality 
of  his  subject  as  his  eye  actually  receives  it. 

This  represents  the  first  stage  in  Manet's  develop- 
ment, the  period  in  which  he  was  directly  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Velasquez.  The  new  departure  came,  when 
having  assimilated  the  Spaniard's  example,  he  launched 
forth  independently.  The  Rubicon  was  passed  shortly 
before  1870,  when  he  was  staying  at  the  country  home 
of  his  friend,  the  painter,  De  Nittis.  The  latter's  wife 
happened  to  be  seated  in  an  easy-chair  on  the  lawn,  her 
baby  in  a  cradle  beside  her,  her  husband  lying  on  the 
grass.  Manet,  seated  in  the  sunshine,  painted  the  group 
in  its  environment  of  sunny  greens  and  brilliant  flowers. 
With  The  Garden,  "plein-cdr"  made  its  debut  in  modern 
painting.  Henceforth  the  principles  of  Velasquez 
were  extended  to  out-of-door  problems  and  to  the  end- 

[169] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

less  variety  of  effects  produced  by  varying  quantities 
and  qualities  of  luminosity. 

After  the  Franco-Prussian  War,  during  which  Manet 
served  in  the  artists'  corps  and  also  as  a  lieutenant  in  the 
Garde  Nationale  with  Meissonier  as  his  Colonel,  an  exhi- 
bition was  held  at  Nadar's  Gallery,  comprising  his  work 
and  that  of  the  men  who  were  already  ranging  them- 
selves by  his  side.  Some  of  the  pictures  were  catalogued 
as  "Impressions"  of  this  or  that.  Jules  Claretie,  in  sum- 
ming up  the  exhibition,  spoke  of  it  as  a  "Salon  des  Im- 
pressionistes."  The  term  proved  apposite  and  caught 
on.  The  modern  consciousness,  becoming  aware  of 
impressionism,  labeled  it  and  fixed  it  duly  in  the  cabinet 
of  the  arts.  Some  proceeded  to  define  it;  Zola,  for 
example,  describing  an  impressionistic  picture  as  "a 
corner  of  life  seen  through  a  temperament."  For  it 
becomes  recognized  that  if  the  painter  is  to  render  what 
he  sees  instead  of  what  he  knows,  it  is  but  a  step  to 
painting  it  as  he  feels  it,  and  thence  but  another  step 
to  relying  so  thoroughly  on  his  feeling,  that  to  accom- 
modate the  latter  he  will  not  hesitate  to  color  and  warp 
the  facts;  therefore,  that  impressionism  as  a  mode  is 
temperamental,  with  all  that  this  implies  of  weakness 
as  well  as  strength. 

It  is  customary  to  limit  the  term,  impressionists,  to 
a  group  of  painters  including  besides  Manet,  who  has 
been  called  the  Father  of  Modern  Impressionism, 
Whistler,  Degas,  Renoir,  Monet,  Pissarro,  Gillaumin, 
Sisley,  Jongkind  and  a  few  others.  There  is  no  harm 
in  thus  preserving  the  identity  of  the  new  departure, 
unless  it  is  allowed  to  obscure  the  fact  that  impression- 

[170  ] 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

ism  as  a  principle  penetrates  modern  life.  It  has  long 
since  ceased  to  apply  to  a  particular  method  of  paint- 
ing. It  represents  not  only  the  painter's  way  of  ob- 
serving and  rendering  the  subject,  but  has  become  in 
a  large  measure  the  world's  way. 

It  has  penetrated  other  arts.  Fiction  and  even  his- 
tory are  being  written  on  the  principle  of  viewing  the 
subject  (as  Zola  again  said  of  impressionism)  in  its 
milieu  or  environment  and  of  relying  upon  suggestion, 
with  its  innumerable  shades  of  allusion,  corresponding 
to  what  the  painters  call  "values,"  to  create  the  milieu. 
Compare,  for  example,  Kipling's  method  of  creating  a 
vivid  impression  in  cooperation  with  the  reader's  im- 
agination and  that  of  George  Eliot  who  relies  upon 
the  detailed  statement.  With  what  consummate  use 
of  suggestion-values  Maeterlinck  in  "Les  Aveugles" 
succeeds  in  setting  the  affliction  of  the  blind  in  its  milieu 
of  solitary  helplessness,  so  that  we  feel  their  desolation. 
To  his  "Pelleas  and  Melisande,"  Debussy  composes 
music,  which  as  far  as  possible  dispenses  with  con- 
trapuntal forms  and  by  its  reliance  on  tonal  sugges- 
tions invests  the  soul-drama  with  spiritual  atmosphere. 
Or  contrast  the  more  detailed  art  of  a  Bernhardt  with 
the  highly  suggestive  method  of  a  Duse ;  or  Miss  Ruth 
St.  Denis's  dances  with  those  of  Miss  Isadora  Duncan. 
While  the  former  depends  largely  upon  elaborate  stage 
effects  and  fascinates  her  audience  by  the  structural 
beauty  of  her  form  and  the  detailed  figures  of  the  dance, 
the  other  eliminates  as  far  as  possible  from  our  con- 
sciousness the  perception  of  concrete  form  and  figures, 
creating  around  herself  an  aura  of  suggestion,  so  that  it 

Cm] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

is  the  feeling  or  spirit  of  the  dance  rather  than  the  fact 
of  it  which  is  rendered. 

But  the  principles  which  underlie  impressionism  have 
also  spread  into  the  affairs  of  life.  In  their  efforts 
to  solve  the  problems  of  disease,  poverty  and  crime, 
of  education  and  other  sociological  questions  the  scien- 
tists are  analyzing  more  keenly  than  ever  the  subject  in 
relation  to  its  environment.  And  on  what  is  Mr.  Tay- 
lor's system  of  "Scientific  Management"  based,  if  not  on 
the  study  of  the  subject  in  its  milieu?  In  treating  cer- 
tain cases  physicians  recognize  to-day  the  value  of  sug- 
gestion as,  it  is  most  interesting  to  note,  did  Hip- 
pocrates, "the  Father  of  Medicine,"  in  the  third  century 
before  the  Christian  era.  Suggestion  also  is  one  of  the 
most  effective  arrows  in  the  quiver  of  the  modern  edu- 
cator ;  while  one  of  the  most  marvelous  examples  of  the 
study  of  a  subject  in  its  environment  and  of  treating 
it  through  suggestion  is  afforded  by  the  Salvation 
Army. 

Thus,  without  further  multiplying  instances,  it  is 
clear  that  the  principles  upon  which  impressionism  is 
founded  permeate  modern  life.  The  painter-impres- 
sionist is  but  one  of  the  reflections  of  the  spirit  of  his 
age.  His  distinguishing  characteristic  as  a  painter  is 
not  to  be  discovered  so  much  in  his  motive  as  in  his 
technique.  The  latter  has  been  influenced  in  two  direc- 
tions: by  the  example  of  the  Japanese  and  by  hints 
derived  from  science.  Of  the  former  influence  Degas, 
(1834 — )  is  the  most  typical,  while  Claude  Monet 
(1840 — ),  Camille  Pissarro  (1831-1903)  and  Auguste 

[172] 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

Renoir   (1841-)   are  most  representative  of  the  scien- 
tific influence. 


No  sooner  was  impressionism  weaned  from  the 
direct  influence  of  Velasquez  than  its  lusty  growth  be- 
gan to  assimilate  a  characteristic  of  the  age.  As  stage- 
coaches were  superseded  by  trains  and  the  speed  of 
the  latter  increased,  the  pace  of  life  all  round  became 
accelerated.  With  ability  to  move  quickly  came  a  craze 
for  change.  Life  must  be  crowded  with  sensations  and 
to  get  them  into  the  ordinary  allotted  span,  they  must 
be  brief,  the  moment  charged  with  piquancy.  Reflecting 
this,  the  painter  became  intent  on  catching  the  fugitive 
impression,  the  fleeting  movement  of  a  woman's  gesture  ; 
the  light  upon  a  landscape  at  such  and  such  an  hour; 
the  momentary  aspect  of  a  crowded  street  or  cafe.  For 
this  the  old  principles  of  composition,  based  on  geome- 
try, were  unfitted.  Their  effect  was  at  once  too  formal 
and  too  stable.  The  clue  to  a  more  spontaneous  dis- 
position of  the  forms  and  spaces  was  discovered  in  the 
Japanese  prints  which  by  the  seventies  were  coming 
into  Paris.  These  Ukiyoye  compositions  had  the  charm 
of  unpremeditation,  surprise  and  fluent  actuality,  as  they 
fixed  on  paper  the  evanescent  aspects  of  the  "Passing 
Show."  The  principle  they  involved  was  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Japan  notan;  a  spotting  of  dark  and  light, 
not  systematically  arranged  but  balanced  with  an  art- 
ful though  apparently  artless  irregularity.  Spotting 
instead  of  building-up  became~Tbe  cBagacfepgtac  of  im^L 
pressionistic  composition.  Moreover,  the  Japanese^ 
composition  presented  a  highly  decorative  arrangement, 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

which  from  the  first  it  had  been  the  aim  of  impres- 
sionistic painters  to  achieve.  Further,  these  prints 
echoed  Velasquez's  use  of  black,  white,  gray,  blue  and 
rose,  meanwhile  extending1  the  gamut  of  hues  and 
nuancing  the  tones  with  infinite  subtleness. 

While  Degas  developed  these  principles  more 
thoroughly  than  any  other  of  the  Impressionists,  he  is 
none  the  less  an  original  genius.  His  early  work  was 
inspired  by  the  example  of  Ingres  for  whose  art  he 
has  always  had  a  high  regard.  Then  he  devoted  him- 
self to  the  naturalistic  motive,  finding  his  subjects  in 
race-scenes  and  the  femininity  of  Paris.  No  artist  has 
so  effectively  synthetized  the  restless  action  of  a  bunch 
of  racers  as  they  canter  to  the  starting  post  or  wait 
the  signal;  the  intricacy  of  angles  which  their  shifting 
bodies  present,  the  scintillating  movement  of  the  many 
legs  and  the  tense  gestures  of  the  jockeys.  With  cor- 
responding verve  he  analyzed  the  characteristic  of  the 
Parisian  working-women  and  ladies  of  society  and  piti- 
lessly revealed  the  jaded  life  of  the  demi-mondaines. 
Finally  he  explored  the  coulisses  and  stage  of  the  Opera 
and  Circus  and  the  schools  in  which  the  girls  of  the 
ballet  are  trained.  It  is  with  these  subjects  that  he  is 
most  widely  identified.  And  they  represent  most 
characteristically  this  strangely  haughty  genius  who  be- 
trays no  taste  for  the  world,  holding  himself  severely 
aloof  from  society,  allowing  himself  no  intimates  and 
looking  out  from  his  solitude  upon  the  passing  show 
with  coldest  scrutiny  and  cynical  disdain.  At  least 
such  an  attitude  of  mind  one  may  gather  from  the  tired, 
ugly  faces  of  his  dancing  girls  and  the  cruelly  grotesque 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

contortions  which  he  gives  to  their  bodies  and  limbs. 
Yet  these  are  but  the  facts  of  his  models  and  of  the 
conditions  under  which  they  are  converted  into  Terp- 
sichorean  machines.  When  he  depicts  a  ballerina,  he 
will  endow  her  with  the  zest  of  an  artist  and  render  her 
a  miracle  of  grace. 

When,  however,  one  turns  from  the  material  to  the 
manner  of  Degas,  it  is  to  discover  in  this  apparently 
cold  and  cynical  nature  an  artistic  ardor  and  feeling  for 
abstract  beauty,  such  as  few  painters  of  the  century  have 
rivaled.  He  is  as  great  a  draftsman  as  a  colorist,  and 
a  decorator  unsurpassed.  The  arabesques  of  his  com- 
positions alike  in  his  oil  paintings  and  his  inimitable 
drawings,  water  colors  and  pastels,  are  distinguished 
by  a  spotting  as  broad  as  it  is  subtle,  which  suggests 
the  most  unstudied  naturalness  and  at  the  same  time 
the  most  aristocratic  feeling.  High-bred,  also  is  his 
instinct  for  color,  which  again  has  a  strain  of  fascinat- 
ing bizarrerie  and  always  an  impeccable  assurance.  Per- 
haps he  is  never  so  wonderful  as  when  he  drags  a  stick 
of  pastel  across  a  drawing,  leaving  an  evanescent  sug- 
gestion of  purple  or  yellow.  Indeed,  his  use  of  color 
defies  analysis ;  it  is  regulated  by  the  genius  of  instinct. 
Degas  has  the  natural  gift  of  the  colorist  as  Madame 

Melba  has  that  of  song. 

....... 

Degas  excepted,  the  original  Impressionists  are  dis- 
tinguished by  their  knowingly  scientific  use  of  color,  in 
which  they  followed  Delacroix  who  had  taken  his  lead 
from  Constable.     It  is  based  on  the  principle  of  division,  V 
that  is  to  say,  the  placing  of  tints  and  tones  side  by 

C175U 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

side  in  separate  touches.  Delacroix  affirmed  this  princi- 
ple and  its  advantages  frequently  in  his  writings.  He 
said,  for  example,  "it  is  good  that  the  touches  should 
not  be  actually  blended.  They  blend  naturally  at  a 
given  distance,  by  the  law  of  sympathy  which  has  as- 
sociated them.  Color  thus  obtains  more  energy  and 
'  freshness."  He  acknowledges  his  indebtedness  to  the 
English  painter.  "Constable  said  that  the  superiority 
of  the  green  in  his  meadows  was  due  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  composed  of  a  multitude  of  different  greens. 
The  cause  of  the  lack  of  intensity  and  life  in  the  verdure 
of  the  average  landscapist  is  that  he  makes  it  ordinarily 
of  a  uniform  tint.  What  Constable  says  here  of  the 
green  of  the  meadows  can  be  applied  to  all  tones." 
Accordingly  Delacroix  adopted  the  practice  of  cover- 
ing his  local  hues  with  cross  hatches  of  varying  tones 
of  the  same  hue  or  of  its  complementary,  thus  securing 
intensity  and  life. 

However,  it  was  not  at  once  that  the  first  Impres- 
sionists, Manet,  Monet  and  Pissarro,  derived  this  lesson 
from  Delacroix.  Originally  they  drew  their  inspira- 
tion from  Courbet  and  then  sat  at  the  feet  of  Velasquez, 
emulating  his  blacks  and  whites  and  grays.  Mean- 
while, Delacroix  had  declared  that  "the  enemy  of  all 
painting  is  the  gray."  But  in  1871  Manet  and  Pis- 
sarro paid  a  visit  to  England  and  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Turner.  They  returned  home  to  pursue  the 
motive  of  light :  of  light  which  is  color  and  color  which 
is  light,  luminosity,  brilliance.  It  was  then  that  they 
began  to  turn  to  Delacroix  and  to  his  division  of  color. 
They  were  fortified  in  their  new  departure  by  a  discovery 

P76] 


POPLARS 


CLAUDE  MONET 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

which  their  friend,  Seurat,  had  made  in  a  work  on  color 
by  Professor  Rood  of  Columbia  University.  The  latter 
recorded  an  experiment  made  with  a  comparison  of  re- 
volving disks,  on  one  of  which  two  colors  were  painted 
in  separate  sections,  while  the  other  was  covered  with 
the  product  of  the  same  two  colors,  previously  mixed 
on  the  palette.  The  revolution  of  the  former  disk  pro- 
duced a  mingling  of  the  colors  far  more  intense  and 
lively  than  the  hue  of  the  other  one.  It  seemed  to 
establish  the  superiority,  for  purposes  of  brilliance  and 
intensity,  of  the  optical  blending  to  the  actual  blend- 
ing on  the  palette.  Seurat  took  the  hint  and  com- 
municated the  results  to  Monet  and  Pissarro.  Hence- 
forth their  work  becomes  distinguished  by  division  of 
touch.  They  lay  the  pure  colors  side  by  side  and  de- 
pend upon  the  eye  to  effect  the  mingling. 

So  far  they  had  resumed  the  experience  of  Delacroix. 
Then  they  passed  beyond  him,  if  not  in  splendor  and 
majesty  of  coloring,  at  least  in  clarity  and  brilliance  and 
in  naturalness.  For  they  contributed  their  share  to  the 
"naturalization  of  the  instinct."  They  taught  them- 
selves and  in  time  the  public,  to  see  nature  more  natu- 
rally. Manet  had  discovered  that  planes  in  out-of-door 
nature  appear  flat  and  that  discords  of  color  are  har- 
monized by  the  envelope  of  light.  But  there  were  other 
natural  facts  to  be  learned,  particularly  those  relating 
to  shadow.  Analysis  proved  that  in  nature  there  is 
no  arbitrary  recipe  for  shadow.  Neither  the  blacks  of 
Caravaggio  and  the  school  of  the  Darklings,  nor  the 
reds  of  Rubens,  nor  the  grays  of  Van  Dyck,  nor  the 
browns  of  Hobbema  and  Ruisdael;  but  that  shadows 

COT] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

always  retain  something  of  the  local  hue;  and  are  af- 
fected by  the  near-by  hues.  Thus,  the  shadow  under 
a  girl's  chin,  as  she  sits  in  the  sunshine  on  a  lawn,  may 
be  impregnated  with  green.  It  was  discovered  that 
the  shadows  on  snow  are  not  black,  which  is  the  negative 
of  color,  but  some  tone  of  the  coolest  color,  blue,  or  its 
warmer  affinities,  purple  or  lavender. 

As  a  result  appeared  those  canvases  by  Monet  which 
at  first  outraged  the  purblind  public,  which  had  not  as 
yet  accustomed  itself  to  see  nature  as  it  is,  but  relied 
for  its  color  impressions  on  the  conventions  and  formulas 
of  indoor  painting.  To-day  we  know  better,  thanks 
to  the  Impressionists,  and  can  appreciate  at  their  full 
value  Monet's  exquisite  landscapes  made  at  Vetheuil  on 
the  Seine,  on  the  coast  of  Belle-Isle,  along  the  Thames 
in  London  and  those  miracles  of  luminosity  represented 
in  the  series  of  early  morning  visions  of  Rouen  Cathe- 
dral. Few  artists  have  been  gifted  with  an  eye  so 
analytic  as  Monet's,  which  led  him  in  pure  joy  of  ex- 
periment to  multiply  the  varying  aspects  of  a  single 
haystack,  according  to  the  quality  of  light  that  played 
upon  it  at  different  times  of  day,  or  to  find  in  a  single 
lily  pool  a  source  of  endless  variety  of  color  and  light 
and  decorative  arabesques. 

Moreover,  there  was  a  time  when  it  was  customary  to 
consider  this  analytical  eye  of  Monet's  as  objective  as 
a  mirror.  We  have  discovered  our  mistake  and  realize 
now  the  subjective  character  of  his  vision:  that  it  was 
not  satisfied  with  the  external  aspects  of  the  scene ;  that, 
in  fact,  it  penetrated  to  its  very  core  and  brought  to  the 
surface  its  spiritual  inwardness.  For  example,  there  is 


MANET  AND  IMPRESSIONISM 

no  painter  who  has  revealed  more  intimately  as  it  af- 
fects the  spirit,  the  very  essence  of  impression  peculiar 
to  the  Seine  near  Paris,  than  Monet.  Alfred  Sisley, 
on  occasions,  rivals  him  but  cannot  maintain  the  pace 
of  the  physically  powerful  Monet,  whose  gait  is  so 
measured  and  yet  leads  so  invariably  to  a  refined  inter- 
pretation of  the  spiritual  suggestion  of  the  scene. 


H1793 


CHAPTER  XIV 

RENOIR 

THERE  is  a  certain  element  of  brutality  in 
Monet,  as  in  some  other  impressionists,  to  which 
however  Auguste  Renoir  (1841 — )  presents  the 
extreme  of  contrast.  His  art  is  of  exquisite  refinement, 
at  once  virile  and  voluptuous ;  replete  with  gaiety,  grace 
and  tenderness;  supple  as  well  as  strong;  magisterial, 
yet  caressing ;  an  art  that  in  its  latest  phase  bathes  all  it 
touches  in  a  miracle  of  luminous  color  and  yet  asserts 
the  beauty  of  form.  Renoir  is  of  all  modern  French 
artists  the  most  typical  of  the  permanent  spirit  of  the 
race.  He  has  resumed  the  thread  that  was  snapped  by 
the  Revolution;  carrying  forward  the  art  of  Fragonard 
and  thus  uniting  with  the  stream  of  inspiration  which 
the  eighteenth  century  derived  from  Rubens. 

But  equally  he  represents  the  new  influence  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  His  earlier  work  reflects  the  ex- 
ample of  Courbet,  Manet  and  Velasquez.  It  is  his 
black,  white  and  gray  period  which  culminated  in  the 
magnificent  pictorial  treatment  of  La  Loge  (p.  180). 
In  this  there  is  no  mistaking  the  influences  that  have 
operated;  yet  the  manner  as  well  as  the  feeling  are 
original,  purely  French,  and  unequivocally  Renoir. 
Fine  as  it  is,  however,  it  proved  to  be  only  the  comple- 
tion of  a  step  in  the  artist's  development,  which  was 

C180] 


LA  LOGE 


PIERRE  AUGUSTS  RENOIR 


RENOIR 

now  to  embrace  the  color-technique  of  impressionism 
and  the  influence  of  Ingres.  It  was  such  examples  of 
Ingres  as  the  Odalisque  and  Le  Bain  Turc,  the  latter 
representing  a  number  of  nudes  reclining  in  various 
attitudes  of  luxurious  contentment  around  a  marble 
bathing  pool,  that  helped  Renoir  to  consummate  his 
art.  They  awoke  in  him  the  Frenchman's  characteristic 
love  of  form  and  style;  qualities  in  which  the  general 
run  of  modern  impressionistic  pictures  are  singularly 
deficient. 

Renoir's  decorative  treatment  under  the  new  inspira- 
tion became  more  completely  organic.  Whereas  in  La 
Loge  the  arabesque  is,  as  it  were  woven,  now,  particu- 
larly in  his  nudes,  he  models  it.  He  has  lost  nothing  of 
the  exquisite  manipulation  of  material,  producing  such 
beautiful  mystery  of  surfaces;  but  he  now  extends  the 
beauty  of  the  surface  back  into  the  planes  of  his  picture ; 
making  the  forms  mysteriously  issue  from  the  mystery 
of  colored  luminosity  that  fills  the  concaves  of  his 
spaces.  Ingres  has  taught  him,  as  he  did  Degas,  to 
discover  the  grand  line  and  the  grandeur  of  mass ;  but, 
while  Degas  makes  both  count  for  character  as  well  as 
beauty,  Renoir's  addition  to  the  beauty  is  the  palpitating 
splendor  and  warm  life  of  movement.  No  other 
Frenchman  has  interpreted  so  unerringly  a  certain 
French  type  of  child  and  young  woman,  velvety,  plump 
and  luscious  as  a  peach  in  sunshine.  Gesture,  expres- 
sion, texture,  are  characteristic.  There  is  character  in 
Fragonard,  but  it  is  rather  that  of  convention;  with 
Renoir  it  is  character  of  nature. 

If  one  compares  Fragonard's  Women  Bathing  of 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

the  Louvre  with  similar  subjects  by  Renoir  it  is  to  real- 
ize how  far  naturalism,  filtered  through  the  latter's 
temperament,  has  improved  upon  the  Rococo.  Renoir 
has  discovered  rhythms  in  the  forms  and  gestures  of  his 
bathers  that  are  nature's,  caught  and  blended  by  art, 
in  comparison  with  which  Fragonard's  women  seem  to 
be  consciously  posturing.  The  advance  is  yet  more 
noticeable  when  the  figures  are  viewed  in  relation  to  the 
water,  sky  and  foliage.  It  is  not  only  that  again  the 
natural  beauty  of  the  ingredients  exceeds  that  of  the 
studio  convention ;  but  that  Renoir,  by  his  subtler  use  of 
color  and  ability  to  evoke  the  luminosity  of  nature, 
welds  all  the  parts  of  his  decoration  into  a  harmony  of 
relation  which  envelops  the  surface  and  also  impregnates 
all  the  receding  planes.  Renoir's  decoration  is  more 
plastic,  while  at  the  same  time  the  substance  out  of 
which  it  is  constructed  is  infinitely  more  subtle  and 
evasive. 

In  his  search  for  the  plastic  Renoir  will  sometimes 
treat  part  of  his  figures,  especially  the  hands,  in  a  way 
that  offends,  alike,  the  naturalist  and  the  academician. 
It  is  here  that  he  asserts  the  claim  of  the  Impressionist 
to  subordinate,  slur  or  even  misrepresent  a  part  if  by  so 
doing  he  can  better  achieve  his  impression  of  the  whole. 
Meanwhile,  though  he  has  explored  the  possibilities  of 
impressionism  farther  than  any  other  artist  of  his  age, 
his  art  has  been  at  the  same  time  more  thoroughly  repre- 
sentative of  the  great  traditions  of  painting.  This  has 
been  his  final  distinction,  and  on  it  will  probably  be  based 
his  reputation  with  posterity. 

[1883 


CHAPTER  XV 

NEO-IMPRESSIONISM 

TO  Impressionism  has  already  succeeded  ISTeo- 
Impressionism.  One  of  its  adherents,  Paul 
Signac,  has  summarized  the  objects  of  the  latter 
in  his  "D'Eugene  Delacroix  au  Neo-Impressionnisme" : 
"By  means  of  the  suppression  of  all  impure  mixing,  by 
the  exclusive  use  of  the  optical  mingling  of  the  pure 
colors,  by  a  methodical  division  and  the  observation  of 
the  scientific  theory  of  colors,  it  guarantees  a  maximum 
of  luminosity,  coloration  and  harmony,  which  have  not 
yet  been  attained."  In  a  word,  the  new  movement  re- 
lies more  fully  upon  science.  It  has  already  been  men- 
tioned that  Georges  Seurat,  after  reading  one  of 
Professor  Rood's  experiments,  was  induced  to  apply  the 
principle  of  division  of  color  to  his  brushwork.  At  an 
exhibition  of  the  Impressionist  group  held  in  1886  this 
new  influence  became  apparent.  Georges  Seurat  was 
represented  by  Un  Dimanche  a  la  Grande- J atte ,  while 
works  closely  akin  to  it  in  technique  were  shown  by 
Camille  Pissarro,  his  son  Lucien  Pissarro,  and  Paul 
Signac.  Among  other  Frenchmen  who  later  became 
identified  with  Neo-Impressionism,  advancing  the  ap- 
plication of  its  principles  by  their  independent  re- 
searches and  experiments,  were  Henri  Edmond  Cross, 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Albert  Dubois-Pillet,  Maximilian  Luce,  Charles  Aug- 
rand  and  Hippolyte  Petit  jean. 

The  Neo-Impressionists,  to  quote  Paul  Signac,  are 
like  the  Impressionists  in  having  on  their  palettes  only 
pure  colors.  But  "they  repudiate  absolutely  all  mixing 
on  the  palette,  except,  of  course,  the  mixing  of  colors 
that  are  contiguous  upon  the  chromatic  circle.  The  lat- 
ter, graded  to  one  another  and  cleared  with  white,  will 
tend  to  reproduce  the  variety  of  the  hues  of  the  solar 
spectrum  and  all  their  tones.  For  example,  an  orange 
mingling  with  a  yellow  and  a  red,  a  violet  graded  toward 
red  and  toward  blue,  a  green  passing  from  blue  to  yel- 
low, are  with  the  white  the  sole  elements  which  they  em- 
ploy. But  by  the  optical  mixing  of  these  several  pure 
colors,  and  by  varying  their  proportions,  they  obtain  an 
infinite  quantity  of  hues,  from  the  most  intense  to  the 
most  gray."  .  .  .  "Each  touch,  taken  pure  from  the 
palette,  remains  pure  upon  the  canvas."  Thus  the  Neo- 
Impressionists  "can  claim  to  surpass  in  luminosity  and 
color  the  Impressionists  who  sully  and  gray  the  pure 
colors  of  the  simplified  palette." 

They  might  have  been  more  appropriately  called 
"color  luminists";  but  adopted  the  other  name  to 
acknowledge  their  indebtedness  to  Impressionists  who 
lead  the  way  in  the  search  for  light  and  color.  But,  as 
M.  Signac  adds,  while  the  Impressionists  rely  upon  in- 
stinct and  aim  at  fugitive  or  instantaneous  effects,  the 
Neo-Impressionists  aim  at  permanence  of  effect  and 
reach  their  results  by  reflection,  based  on  scientific  prin- 
ciples. "The  Impressionist,"  as  M.  Theodore  Duret 
has  said,  "sits  on  the  bank  of  a  stream  and  paints  what 


NEO-IMPRESSIONISM 

passes  before  him."  But  the  Neo-Impressionist,  to 
quote  M.  Signac,  "following  in  this  aspect  the  counsels 
of  Delacroix,  will  not  commence  a  canvas  until  he  has 
fixed  upon  the  arrangement.  Guided  by  tradition  and 
science,  he  will  harmonize  the  composition  to  his  con- 
ception. That  is  to  say,  he  will  adapt  the  lines,  their 
directions  and  angles,  the  dark  and  light  of  the  tones 
and  the  hues  to  the  character  that  he  wishes  shall  prevail. 
The  dominant  lines  will  be  horizontal  to  express  calm; 
ascending  for  joy;  and  descending  for  sadness,  while 
the  intermediary  lines  will  figure  all  the  other  sensa- 
tions in  their  infinite  variety.  A  polychrome  play,  not 
less  expressive  and  diverse,  is  wedded  to  his  play  of  line. 
To  ascending  lines  will  correspond  warm  hues  and  light 
tones;  with  descending  lines  cool  hues  and  deep  tones 
will  predominate,  while  an  equilibrium  more  or  less  per- 
fect of  warm  and  cool  hues  and  of  pale  and  intense  tones 
will  add  to  the  calm  of  the  horizontal.  Thus  submitting 
the  color  and  line  to  the  emotion  that  he  has  experienced, 
the  painter  will  do  the  work  of  the  poet,  the  creator." 

In  fact,  however  much  instinct  may  affect  the  char- 
acter of  his  sensations,  the  Neo-Impressionist  will  not 
permit  it  to  affect  his  expression.  The  latter  must  be 
precisely  organized;  color  as  well  as  line  being  handled 
according  to  reasoned  principles  so  as  to  secure  a  per- 
fect harmony  of  ensemble.  And  the  latter  will  cor- 
respond with  a  moral  harmony  in  the  artist's  mind ;  the 
product  of  disciplined  reasoning  and  organization. 
The  artist  as  well  as  his  work — the  one  in  consequence  of 
the  other — rests  upon  the  assurance  of  scientific  basis. 

In  conclusion  Signac  reminds  us  that  "division  of 

[185] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

touch"  is  an  esthetic  principle,  the  touch  itself  being 
merely  the  means  to  an  end.  This  warning  is  directed 
against  the  common  error  of  supposing  that  it  is  the 
touch  which  constitutes  the  principle  of  Neo-Impres- 
sionism.  But,  except  that  the  new  school  varies  the 
size  and  character  of  the  touch  to  the  size  and  character 
of  the  composition,  it  is  in  no  wise  distinguished  by  the 
use  of  the  touch.  Delacroix's  touch  took  the  form  of 
cross-hatches,  some  Impressionists  adopted  a  comma- 
stroke  ;  some  have  used  the  point  and  are  the  only  ones 
to  whom  the  term  pointilliste  is  proper;  others  have 
adopted  the  square  touch  of  a  mosaic;  Segantini  wove 
his  touches  together  side  by  side  like  stitches  in  wool- 
work. The  touch,  in  fact,  is  no  novelty  of  technique, 
and  has  no  significance  of  principle. 

Signac's  book  has  been  criticized  because  of  its  fre- 
quent reference  to  Delacroix,  as  if,  says  one  critic  very 
foolishly,  the  author  imagined  that  the  great  Roman- 
ticist existed  chiefly  to  supply  an  argument  for  Neo- 
Impressionism.  This,  of  course,  is  mere  trifling  with 
the  matter.  Signac's  obvious  and  excellent  intention 
was  to  show  the  logical  development  of  the  new  princi- 
ples both  from  Impressionism  and  from  Delacroix ;  and 
surely  it  is  no  detraction  from  the  greatness  of  both  that 
beside  being  potent  in  themselves  they  have  proved  to 
be  sources  of  potency  for  further  development. 

The  new  principle  has  also  been  objected  to  as  re- 
ducing the  personality  of  its  exponents.  But  this  im- 
plies a  very  cursory  or  unfeeling  study  of  the  works  of 
the  several  men.  Nobody  with  any  sympathy  of  ap- 
preciation could  confuse  the  amplitude  of  feeling  in 

P86J 


NEO-IMPRESSIONISM 

Seurat's  scene  of  young  men  bathing,  for  example,  with 
the  exquisite  delicacy  of  Signac's  river  landscapes;  or 
overlook  the  differences  displayed  by  Luce's  street 
scenes  of  work-a-day  life  and  by  those  of  peasant  life 
in  the  fields  by  Charles  Augrand;  or  the  color  rhythm 
of  Cross  with  the  decorative  canvases  of  nude  nymphs 
by  Petit  jean. 

Nor  is  the  fact  that  by  adopting  the  principles  of 
Neo-Impressionism  a  mediocre  painter  can  realize  his 
mediocrity,  an  adverse  argument.  For  such  a  charge 
could  be  brought  against  every  system  of  technique; 
and  it  might  as  well  be  urged  that  systems  of  scientific 
instruction  are  fatal  to  the  appearance  of  scientific 
genius.  So  far  Neo-Impressionism  has  produced  no 
artist  of  preponderating  ability;  but  this  is  no  argu- 
ment against  it.  Owing  to  the  reluctance  of  the  public 
to  commit  itself  until  time  and  authority  have  served  to 
endorse  a  new  movement  with  respectability,  the  present 
exponents  of  Neo-Impressionism  have  perhaps  scarcely 
had  an  opportunity  to  prove  their  full  capacity.  Signac 
is  disposed  to  believe  that  the  latter  will  only  be  ren- 
dered possible  when  they  are  given  a  chance  to  decorate 
large  mural  spaces,  particularly  in  ill-lighted  buildings. 
His  surmise  appears  reasonable  and,  in  view  of  what 
so  often  passes  for  decoration,  the  world  could  not  be 
further  wronged  by  putting  the  experiment  to  a  test. 


D87] 


CHAPTER  XVI 

PENUMBRA 

SO  far  in  following  the  progress  of  modern  French 
painting  we  have  passed  unnoticed  many  a  quiet 
backwater   where   the    artist   has   liberated    his 
spirit  in  seclusion  from  the  swift  main  stream.     The 
present  chapter,  therefore,  shall  be  in  the  nature  of  a 
retrospect,  gathering  up  some  of  the  personalities  that 
the  logic  of  events  compelled  us  for  the  time  to  over- 
look. 

The  dominant  features  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
scientific  research  and  material  progress,  tended  for  a 
time  toward  rationalism,  and  materialism,  to  a  belief  in 
nothing  that  could  not  be  submitted  to  the  evidence  of 
the  senses.  This  attitude  toward  life  was  reflected,  as 
we  have  seen,  in  the  painter's  attitude  toward  art. 
Romanticism,  at  least  in  its  origin,  had  been  an  expres- 
sion of  soul.  Naturalism  and  Impressionism,  however, 
were  to  a  great  extent  the  products  of  that  "chair  and 
table"  view  of  life  which  confines  its  interest  to  what 
can  be  seen  and  handled.  A  vast  quantity  of  modern 
painting  in  France,  as  indeed  elsewhere,  presents  a 
spectacle  of  the  most  barren  materialism.  Nor  is  this 
quality  characteristic  only  of  much  naturalistic  and  im- 
pressionistic work ;  it  is  equally  so,  though  in  a  different 
and  perhaps  less  tolerable  way,  of  a  great  deal  of  the 

[188] 


PENUMBRA 

academic  output.  In  fact,  if  a  visitor,  arriving  from 
another  planet,  were  to  base  his  estimate  of  modern 
civilization  on  the  exhibits  of  picture  galleries,  he  might 
easily  be  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  modern  man  was 
without  imagination  and  devoid  of  any  conscious  need  of 
higher  thinking  and  feeling.  He  would,  of  course,  be 
mistaken,  even  misjudging  the  evidence  of  pictures. 
For  the  modern  has  exhibited  his  imagination  in  dis- 
covering beauty  in  things  of  common  experience  and 
has  through  his  study  of  light  and  color  subtilized,  it  is 
even  proper  to  say  spiritualized,  his  feeling  for  beauty. 
Still,  in  the  main,  he  has  limited  his  appreciation  of 
beauty  to  the  visible  and  tangible. 

It  is  in  contrast  with  this  main  tendency  that  the  im- 
agination of  certain  painters,  conscious  that  reality  is 
not  solely  an  affair  of  eyesight,  has  penetrated  beyond 
the  palpable  into  the  confines  of  the  spiritual ;  into  that 
penumbra  where  fact  and  faith  join  mysterious  hands. 

Some  have  introduced  obscurity  into  their  pictures, 
creating  a  physical  penumbra  in  which  the  forms  are 
partly  merged;  while  all  suggest  a  feeling,  aloof  from 
the  stir  of  things  in  a  sort  of  penumbra  of  the  spirit. 
Jean  Charles  Cazin  (1841-1900)  in  a  measure  repre- 
sents both  these  phases,  as  well  in  his  figure  subjects 
as  in  his  better-known  landscapes.  It  is  not  obscurity 
in  the  sense  of  darkness  that  wraps  his  night  scenes, 
twilights  and  moonlights.  But  the  facts  of  things  are 
slumbering,  merged  in  the  impression  of  the  scene,  as 
it  affects  the  spirit.  These  village  streets,  and  sandy 
dunes,  quiet  by  day,  become  in  the  phantom  half-light 
ghosts.  And  ghosts  are  impressive,  as  some  one  has 

C189] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

said,  because  they  are  silent.  It  is  the  silence  of  these 
vacant  spaces  that  so  poignantly  arrests  one's  spirit.  A 
corresponding  impressiveness  characterizes  his  earlier 
subjects  in  which  figures  play  important  part;  his 
Biblical  scenes,  for  example,  such  as  Hagar  and  Ishmael 
in  the  Wilderness;  and  also  his  modern  figure  studies. 
In  one  case  the  spirit  of  the  scene,  in  the  other  the  spirit 
of  the  individual,  is  detached  from  outside  contact,  alone 
with  its  own  silence. 

In  a  strain  of  elegant  lyricism  which  unfortunately 
sometimes  lapses  into  prettiness,  Edouard  Aman-Jean 
(1860 — )  renders  the  graceful  forms  of  women,  haunt- 
ing the  stillness  of  quiet  gardens.  He  began  with 
themes  of  legendary  and  historic  lore,  Jeanne  d'Arc  and 
St.  Genevieve,  and  something  of  the  mystic  still  lingers 
in  his  presentment  of  the  modern  Parisienne. 

The  works  of  Rene  Menard,  born  about  1858,  are  im- 
pregnated with  a  consciousness  of  the  subtlety  of  beauty. 
The  portrait  of  his  uncle,  the  philosopher,  Louis 
Menard,  in  the  Luxembourg,  is  that  of  a  man  whose 
eyes  look  beyond  the  evidence  of  the  material  and 
temporal  with  a  gaze  of  strangely  tender  penetration. 
Meanwhile,  Menard's  landscapes,  with  or  without 
figures,  present  an  alluring  combination  of  objective 
nature  with  the  subjective  expression  of  a  spirit  that 
in  its  essence  is  Hellenic.  Yet  it  is  a  modern  spirit. 
The  exquisite  nudes,  whose  presence  personifies  the 
spirit  of  the  mountains,  lakes  and  trees  are  no  mere 
Oreads  and  Dryads  revivified.  They  are  the  living, 
palpitating  abstractions  of  nature's  loveliness  as  to-day 
we  may  know  and  feel  it. 

[1903 


PENUMBRA 

The  mystery  latent  in  things  very  familiar  has  been 
explored  by  Henri  Sidaner  (1862 — ).  He  has  become 
most  characteristically  identified  with  subjects  in  which 
still-life  plays  a  chief  part.  The  corner  of  a  city 
garden,  for  example,  shows  a  table  spread  with  a  white 
cloth  and  garnished  with  glass  and  silver,  flowers  and 
fruit.  These  reflect  in  a  thousand  nuances  the  warm 
glow  of  a  rose-shaded  lamp;  the  whole  forming  a  jewel 
of  tender  radiance  set  in  the  pale  uncertain  luminosity 
of  the  moonlit  garden.  Sometimes  it  is  the  drear  home- 
liness of  a  village  street  that  the  moonlight  invests  with 
tender  poetry,  or  the  outworn  grandeur  of  a  Venetian 
palace  which  in  the  soft  cicdr-obscure  palpitates  with  the 
melody  of  bygone  memories. 

Two  artists  of  choice  vision  are  Adolphe  Monticelli 
(1824-1886)  and  Henri  Fantin-Latour  (1836-1904). 
Both  loved  music;  Monticelli,  the  ravishing  irresponsi- 
bility of  gipsy  music,  while  Fantin-Latour  was  among 
the  first  Frenchmen  to  appreciate  Wagner  and  an  en- 
thusiastic devotee  of  Berlioz,  Rossini  and  Brahms. 
During  the  days  of  the  Third  Empire  Monticelli 
ruffled  it  bravely  in  Parisian  life ;  but  after  the  disasters 
of  1870  retired  to  Marseilles  and  lived  a  life  of  seclusion 
that  to  outsiders  seemed  pathetic.  But  lie  lived  within 
himself  a  life  which,  while  its  mental  basis  may  have 
been  insecure  and  fantastical,  was  one  of  inspiration  to 
his  art.  Just  as  he  filled  his  consciousness  with  rich 
luxurious  fantasies,  so  he  peopled  the  spaces  of  his  pic- 
tures. For  Monticelli's  impressionism  differed  radi- 
cally in  technique  from  the  Manet  type.  He  was  not 
an  embroiderer  of  surfaces,  but  a  great  space-con- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

structor,  the  builder  of  concaves  whose  limits  merge  in 
the  infinite.  And  this  without  any  use  of  grays  or  usual 
effects  of  penumbra.  His  colors  burn  like  molten 
jewels,  his  light,  whether  moonlight  or  otherwise,  does 
not  pass  into  an  aura  of  obscurity.  The  light  passes 
into  light,  suggesting  interminable  vistas  of  mysterious 
pleasure.  And  these  vistas,  avenues  and  corridors  of 
living  light  are  thronged  with  votaries  of  joyousness,  as 
real  and  yet  as  detached  from  ordinary  reality  as 
Watteau's  gallants  and  their  ladies.  Substitute,  how- 
ever, for  Watteau's  exquisite  logic,  typically  French, 
the  passionate  rhythms  and  harmonies  so  purely  those  of 
instinct,  which  characterize  Hungarian  gipsy  music,  and 
you  begin  to  account  for  the  exceptional  phenomenon 
of  Monticelli. 

Fantin-Latour  owed  much  to  the  example  of  Ingres. 
Acting  upon  his  own  choiceness  of  temperament  it 
tempered  to* fineness  the  naturalistic  motive  which  he 
shared  with  others  of  his  day.  His  Portrait  of  Manet 
(p.  193)  exhibits  the  intimacy  of  his  feeling  and  simple 
directness  of  treatment;  but  it  scarcely  reveals  that 
deeper  penetration  of  the  subject's  personality  and  the 
capacity  to  place  him  aloof  in  an  intimate  atmosphere 
of  his  own  which  characterizes  Fantin-Latour's  best 
portraits.  Of  these  there  is  none  finer  than  the  Portrait 
of  Edwin  Edwards  and  his  Wife  in  the  National  Gal- 
lery. The  man  sits  absorbed  in  the  study  of  a  print, 
the  lady,  standing  beside  him  with  folded  arms,  has 
lifted  her  gaze  from  the  work  of  art  and  fixes  it  on  a 
far  vision.  Around  the  two  figures  is  an  aura  of  highly 
refined  abstraction.  This  picture  is  the  work  of  an 


PORTRAIT  OF  EDOUARD  MANET  HENRI  FANTIN-LATOUR 

ART  INSTITUTE,  CHICAGO 


PENUMBRA 

artist  whose  temperament  led  him  not  only  to  a  fine 
conception  of  his  subject  but  also  involved  a  quiet  direct- 
ness that  enabled  him  to  realize  the  conception  simply 
yet  fully.  The  same  happy  union  of  conception  and 
achievement  characterizes  those  figure-subjects  which 
were  inspired  by  his  love  of  music.  Some  were  exe- 
cuted in  pastel,  more  by  lithography ;  the  latter  medium 
helping  him  technically,  since  the  grain  of  the  stone 
served  to  break  up  the  surfaces,  which,  when  he  handled 
paint,  were  rather  inclined  to  tightness.  But  in  these 
groups  of  nude  and  draped  figures,  the  lights  scintillate 
and  the  shadows  are  lustrous ;  the  surfaces  tremble  and 
glow  in  the  variety  of  rhythmic  and  melodious  movement. 
These  exquisite  interpretations  of  the  very  spirit  of 
dance  and  music  are  touched  with  the  dignity  of  Ingres 
and  the  naive  grace  of  Prud'hon,  while  they  vibrate  to 
the  naturalness  of  Fantin-Latour's  own  mingled  joyous- 
ness  and  seriousness  of  temperament. 

It  was  under  the  shadow  of  Rembrandt  that  Eugene 
Carriere  (1849-1906)  matured.  As  a  young  man  he 
had  come  under  the  spell  of  Rubens  and  Velasquez  and 
his  earlier  pictures  are  distinguished  by  a  delicate 
manipulation  of  blues,  rose  and  pale  yellow,  harmo- 
nized with  neutral  browns  and  grays.  Gradually  his 
color  scheme  became  more  austere,  until  he  developed 
his  matured  style,  which  floats  the  light  and  shade  in 
an  embrowned  penumbra,  while  out  of  it  emerge 
those  parts  of  the  forms  which  are  essential  to  interpret 
the  expression.  The  subjects  become  variations  on  the 
theme  of  Maternity,  with  occasional  portraits  and  re- 
ligious pictures,  such  as  the  Crucifixion  of  the  Luxem- 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

bourg.  One  and  all  are  impregnated  with  profoundly 
reverential  tenderness,  a  reflection  of  the  artist's  own 
moral  beauty  of  character,  which  so  deeply  endeared 
him  to  his  intimate  friends.  Notwithstanding  the 
spiritualized  atmosphere,  there  is  no  lack  of  plasticity  in 
such  parts  of  the  figures  as  are  revealed.  There  is  no 
evasion  of  form  but  a  control  of  it,  so  as  to  subordinate 
the  mere  facts  to  expression.  It  is  his  feeling  regarding 
the  subject  that  Carriere  was  bent  upon  interpreting. 


MATERNITE 


EUGENE  CARRIERE 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PUVIS  DE  CHAVANNES 

PIERRE  PUVIS  DE  CHAVANNES  is  the 
most  impressive  figure  of  the  last  quarter  of 
the  century.  In  an  age  of  flux  and  agitated 
sensations  he  pursued  with  steady  persistence  the  goal 
to  which  his  instinct  and  his  reason  alike  impelled  him, 
and  eventually  dominated  by  sheer  quietude  of  force. 
He  resumed  the  great  decorative  traditions  of  the 
eighteenth  century;  but,  passing  over  Rubens  and  the 
masters  of  the  High  Renaissance,  drew  inspiration 
from  the  primitive  Florentine  artists,  from  Giotto  in 
particular.  Yet  impressionism,  in  the  broad  sense  of 
the  term,  also  affected  him.  His  decorations  are  im- 
pressions and  expressions,  relying  upon  the  eloquence 
of  suggestion. 

The  student  should  begin  his  study  of  Puvis,  if  pos- 
sible, by  a  visit  to  the  Museum  of  Amiens.  Here, 
alongside  of  later  panels,  may  be  seen  the  early  ex- 
amples, War  and  Peace.  In  these,  already,  Puvis  re- 
veals himself  an  artist  of  ideas,  of  imagination,  not  build- 
ing up  a  composition  which  is  empty  of  meaning  or  one 
which  relies  for  its  interests  upon  incident.  It  is  the  soul 
of  War  and  Peace  that  he  interprets:  the  horror  of  the 
one  in  its  brutalizing  of  the  conqueror  and  its  wreaking 
of  misery  on  the  innocent  and  helpless;  the  blessedness 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

of  the  other  in  promoting  the  possibility  of  fullest 
harmony  between  humanity  and  nature.  Each  canvas 
presents  incidents,  but  they  are  dominated  by  the  em- 
bracing idea.  It  is  the  idea  that,  as  far  as  the  subject 
is  concerned,  absorbs  one's  imagination. 

But  as  yet  the  technical  method  contradicts  the  ab- 
straction of  the  subject.  The  treatment  is  pictorial  and 
the  eye  gradually  roams  to  and  lingers  on  fragments  of 
superlative  interest.  Puvis  was  still  working  in  the 
manner  of  many  others  who  have  covered  the  walls  of 
the  Pantheon  and  other  public  buildings  with  illustra- 
tions. 

But  Puvis'  instinct  divined  the  fact  that,  since  archi- 
tecture is  the  most  abstract  of  the  fine  arts,  the  others 
when  they  cooperate  with  it  should  partake  of  its 
abstraction.  It  has  become  a  shibboleth  of  the  deco- 
rators that  the  space  must  be  treated  in  subordination 
to  the  surrounding  architecture.  But  this,  after  all,  is 
little  more  than  a  maxim  of  architectonic  good  manners, 
which,  by  the  way,  was  violated  freely  by  the  Italians 
when  it  suited  them.  Nor  will  the  sole  regard  for  ar- 
chitectonic propriety  succeed  in  eff ecting  the  harmony 
between  painting  and  building  that  is  attained  by  Puvis. 
His  art  rested  on  a  profound  principle:  that  of  the 
genius  of  abstract  expression.  In  an  age,  so  dominated 
by  the  concrete  as  his  own  and  ours,  it  offered  a  means 
of  emphasizing  the  claims  of  the  spirit. 

In  order  to  achieve  this  abstraction  Puvis  submitted 
himself  to  a  severe  discipline  of  elimination,  which  should 
reduce  the  concrete,  as  far  as  possible,  to  its  essential 
elements  and  sacrifice  the  representative  quality  of  form 


a 

£ 

H 

* 


in  favor  of  its  more  significant  qualities  of  expression. 
He  was  influenced  thereto  by  the  example  of  Giotto, 
whose  simplification,  whether  it  resulted  from  a  large 
dramatic  sense  or  from  inability  to  carry  the  drawing 
farther,  is  so  admirably  decorative  and  full  of  character. 
Puvis,  in  emulating  this,  had  to  divest  himself  of  the 
habit  of  treating  the  figures  as  prescribed  by  the  schools. 
It  is  sometimes  said  that  he  had  to  unlearn  what  he 
knew;  but  the  truer  way  of  putting  it  is  to  say  that  he 
had  to  learn  the  higher  principles  of  drawing,  such  as 
Daumier,  Millet  and  Degas  proclaimed,  which  simplifies 
the  masses  by  omission  of  unessentials.  They  adopted 
this  principle  in  pursuit  of  character  of  expression  in 
the  figures.  Puvis  carried  it  still  further  in  order  to 
reduce  the  individual  characterization  of  the  figures  in 
favor  of  a  complete  balance  of  harmoniously  abstract 
relation  between  the  figures  and  their  surroundings. 
For  with  Puvis  the  landscape  is  not  incidental  or  sub- 
ordinated to  the  figures ;  it  is  rather  the  orchestration  to 
which  the  figures  are  contributing  not  separate  melodies 
but  a  united  chorale.  Hence  the  figures  have  become 
static ;  scarcely  more  animated  than  the  trees,  yet  by  the 
suggestion  of  their  human  forms  yielding  a  poignancy 
of  expression.  There  is  a  French  saying  to  the  effect 
that  solitude  is  beautiful  when  there  is  some  one  present 
to  whom  we  can  say,  "How  beautiful  is  solitude." 
This  is  somewhat  the  role  played  by  the  figures  in 
Puvis'  as  in  Corot's  landscapes.  They  intensify  the 
sense  of  universal  harmony  in  this  vision  of  the  solitude 
of  the  spirit. 

Regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  both  learned 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

plane-construction  and  of  expression,  Puvis  comes  near 
to  being  the  greatest  landscape  artist  of  the  century. 
The  element  in  his  work  which  determines  its  high 
quality  is  his  extraordinary  sense  of  the  value  of  open 
spaces.  We  do  not  find  it  in  his  early  work.  His 
Peace  is  beautiful,  but  with  a  confined  beauty  that 
draws  us  in  upon  the  figures;  which  are  not  only  fully 
modeled  but  grouped  in  masses  that  show  one  form 
against  another.  Compare  with  this  any  of  his  later 
work,  and  we  find  the  grouping  loosened  out  so  that 
the  figures  are  more  distributed  and  take  their  place 
independently  in  the  increased  depth  and  number  of 
the  planes.  But,  even  so,  the  final  technical  secret  of 
the  abstraction  which  pervades  the  whole,  drawing  all 
together  into  a  vast  spiritual  harmony,  is  the  extent  of 
the  open  spaces.  You  can  assure  yourself  of  this  by  a 
visit  to  the  Pantheon  where  his  Cycle  of  Ste.  Genevieve 
can  be  compared  with  the  pictorial  and  illustrative 
mural  embellishments  of  diverse  famous  artists  who  are 
deficient  in  the  decorative  sense  but  still  more  in  the 
quality  of  abstraction.  Study,  for  example,  that  ex- 
panse of  violet  night-sky  which  makes  up  half  the  com- 
position of  Ste.  Genevieve  looking  over  Paris.  Its  very 
emptiness  leaves  uninterrupted  roaming-space  for  your 
imaginings  as  for  those  of  the  sainted  maiden.  It  links 
her  quiet  spirit,  as  it  may  one's  own,  with  the  mystery 
of  infinite  calm. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  as  a  rule  it  is  only  in  his  skies 
that  Puvis  allows  himself  the  use  of  pure  color.  One 
might  imagine  that  he  first  chose  the  beautiful  hue  of 


PUVIS  DE  CHAVANNES 

the  blue  and  then  attuned  all  the  other  colors  to  it. 
They  have  yielded  up  their  positiveness.  The  verdure 
and  foliage  are  a  pale  green,  the  ground  has  faded  to 
brownish  gray,  against  which  the  flesh  tints  show  a 
slightly  lower  tone  of  the  same  hue.  For  it  was  a 
habit  of  Puvis  to  set  his  figures  against  a  background 
of  slightly  higher  key.  While  his  colors  are  thus  de- 
colorized, they  are  subtilized  by  the  number  of  tones 
which  each  hue  presents.  The  process  corresponds  to 
the  dematerializing  of  the  facts  and  contributes  to  the 
abstraction  and  spiritualized  harmony  of  the  ensemble. 
It  may  be  that  at  times  Puvis  carried  the  decolorization 
as  well  as  the  dematerialization  of  his  figures  too  far; 
that  the  colors  become  a  trifle  beggared,  the  forms  a 
little  incoherent  in  their  lack  of  "drawing."  One  pos- 
sibly is  conscious  of  this  in  some  of  his  panels  in  the 
Boston  Public  Library,  which  represent  the  work  of 
his  declining  years,  and  in  certain  of  the  smaller  detached 
panel  easel-pictures.  If  so,  it  is  but  necessary  to  turn 
to  his  Genevieve  cycle,  or  to  Winter  in  the  Hotel  de 
Ville,  Paris,  or  to  the  hemicycle  of  the  Sorbonne,  or 
Inter  Artes  et  Naturam,  and  not  alone  to  these,  to  realize 
the  genius  of  this  modern  master. 

Wherein  lies  its  magic?  Possibly  in  its  direct  out- 
growth from  the  spirit  of  the  time,  which  in  turn  it 
lifted  higher,  turning  its  own  weakness  into  strength. 
For  his  age  was  marked,  not  only  by  a  yearning  after 
some  spiritual  escape  from  the  jungle  of  materialism, 
but  also  by  an  overwrought  sensibility  that  rejected  the 
obvious  and  sought  for  the  most  subtle  sensations. 

D99] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Out  of  this  virtual  decadence  of  his  time  Puvis  con- 
structed visions  of  spiritual  refreshment. 

•          ••••••• 

So  far  as  there  is  a  successor  to  Puvis  de  Chavannes, 
it  is  Maurice  Denis  (1885 — ) .  He  has  been  influenced 
by  the  older  man,  but  has  applied  in  his  own  way  the 
principles  of  abstraction,  space-composition  and  color. 
He  is  himself  a  lover  of  the  primitive  Florentines,  and 
was  attracted,  it  is  said,  particularly  by  Lorenzo  di 
Credi.  He  differs  from  Puvis  as  youth  from  age.  It 
is  the  glamour  of  time  and  wisdom  that  haunts  the  work 
of  the  one;  the  miracle  of  the  soul's  eternal  freshness 
that  enchants  us  in  the  other.  And  Denis  is  possessed 
of  that  blithe  instinctive  piety  which  characterizes  the 
French  race  in  general.  At  Le  Vesinet,  between  his 
home  at  St.  Germain  and  Paris,  he  has  decorated  two 
chapels  in  the  church  of  Les  Ortes  and  the  chapel  of 
the  St.  Croix  institution  for  girls.  An  exquisite  sim- 
plicity of  sentiment  allied  to  a  consummate  skill  in  the 
logical  decorative  effects  characterize  these  expressions 
of  radiant  and  joyous  faith. 

Can  I  ever  forget  my  first  introduction  to  the  work 
of  Denis?  It  was  after  a  long  and  weary  traversing 
of  the  galleries  of  the  Salon,  when  one  was  sated  with 
the  plethora  of  profitable  and  unprofitable  canvases, 
jostling  one  another  in  their  eagerness  to  attract. 
When  lo!  a  step  and  in  the  entrance  to  a  gallery,  set 
apart  for  the  work  of  one  man,  one  had  passed  into  a 
new  world.  It  was  one  in  which  springtime  never  ends ; 
in  which  youth  and  fragrant  hope  and  purity  bloom 
continually.  The  lawns  are  fresh  with  vernal  greens, 


PUVIS  DE  CHAVANNES 

starred  with  the  gaiety  of  flowers.  Peach  and  apple 
trees  spread  their  gauzy  veils  of  pink  and  white  against 
the  blue  of  an  eternally  cloudless  sky.  Maidens  with 
soft  budding  forms  and  draperies  that  reflect  the  hues 
of  the  blossoms,  shaded  with  lilac,  stand  or  recline  in 
groups,  intercepting  the  clarity  of  the  light  with  trans- 
parent violet  shadows.  They  are  knit  to  one  another 
and  to  their  surrounding  in  a  naive  harmony  of  un- 
troubled happiness  and  artless  love. 

Such  are  the  aspect  and  expression  that  characterize 
the  work  of  Denis,  though  he  will  sometimes  introduce 
colors  of  greater  warmth  and  positiveness,  as,  for  in- 
stance, in  the  chapel  of  the  Sacred  Heart  in  Les  Ortes, 
where  the  sky  is  rainbow-hued  with  a  predominance  of 
rich  orange,  melting  into  yellow.  In  his  use  of  color  he 
has  this  much  of  neo-impressionism,  that  he  uses  the  hues 
pure  and  vitalizes  them  with  tenderly  discriminated 
tones.  While  still  preserving  the  abstraction  of  his 
figures,  he  treats  them  with  more  roundness  of  model- 
ing and  simple  naturalness  of  gesture  and  expression 
than  are  revealed  in  those  of  Puvis.  Moreover,  he  dif- 
fers from  the  latter  in  garnishing  more  the  empty  spaces. 
His  are  not  empty  in  the  more  literal  sense  that  those 
of  Puvis  are;  the  result  in  expression  being  that,  while 
the  latter's  have  the  abstraction  of  a  far  vision,  Denis' 
are  naive  and  intimate. 


[201 3 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

LA   FIN   DE   SIECLE 

EVEN  before  the  last  quarter  of  the  century  had 
set  in  the  world  was  conscious  of  a  mood  of 
spirit  which  it  eventually  characterized  as  fin  de 
siecle.     It  was  compounded  of  negation  and  pessimism 
with  resultant  mocking  and  contempt;  and  of  lust  of 
sensation,  brutal  and  bizarre,  on  the  one  hand,  as  the 
product  of  gross  and  brutal  naturalism;  on  the  other, 
in  the  way  of  retaliation,  overwrought  with  refinement 
and  the  appetite  for  exotic  stimulus. 

It  commenced  in  a  subtle  epicureanism  of  taste  which 
found  its  literary  expression  in  J.  K.  Huysmans'  "A 
Rebours"  and  Flaubert's  "Salammbo."  The  hero  of 
Huysmans'  novel  is  a  typical  decadent.  His  taste  has 
been  so  exquisitely  exacting  that  he  shuts  himself  from 
the  world  in  a  paradise  of  his  own  sensations.  He  has 
a  mystical  faith  in  a  future  which  will  arrive  when  the 
present  civilization  is  annihilated.  He  has  ceased  to 
strive  because  he  has  found  no  ideal  worth  his  pains  and 
is,  moreover,  conscious  of  his  own  impotence.  In 
women  he  is  attracted  not  by  strong  and  healthy  beauty 
and  fitness  for  maternity,  but  by  the  fascination  of  the 
over-ripe  and  the  morbid.  His  favorites  among  authors 
are  Baudelaire,  Verlaine,  Mallarme,  Villiers  and  the  Gon- 
courts.  He  accepts  from  the  last  named  the  definition 

[202;] 


LA  FIN  DE  SINGLE 

of  beauty  as  that  which  uneducated  people  regard  with 
instinctive  distaste.  In  the  matter  of  painters  he  limits 
his  choice  to  Odilon  Redon  and  Gustave  Moreau. 

Redon  (1840-1904)  has  been  called  the  French 
Blake,  but  such  mysticism  as  he  exhibited  is  of  the  sur- 
face quality,  not  the  actual  life  of  the  spirit,  as  it  was 
with  the  English  artist.  Redon  has  more  affinity  in  his 
imagination  with  Edgar  Allen  Poe,  who  is  the  subject 
of  one  of  his  lithographs.  He  was,  as  Meier-Graefe 
says,  compounded  of  all  imaginable  ghost  stories,  or 
rather  ghost  fragments,  for  it  is  in  fragments  that  his 
art  is  finest.  His  drawing,  for  example,  of  Beatrice, 
the  head  and  shoulders,  is  most  sensitive  in  its  tenderly 
impalpable  modeling  and  correspondingly  exquisite  in 
expression.  It  is  in  drawings  and  lithographs  that  his 
genius  was  best  displayed,  and  an  exhibition  of  them  in 
1881,  aided  by  the  pronouncements  of  Huysmans,  made 
him  famous  and  for  a  time  the  center  of  a  cult  of 
mysticism.  Twenty  years  later  he  reappeared  before 
the  public  with  an  exhibition  of  pastels  from  which,  to 
quote  again  Meier-Graefe,  all  compositional  intention 
was  rigidly  excluded.  There  are  no  lines,  no  planes;  a 
shimmer  of  specks  stream  over  the  canvas  like  flowers 
of  strangely  material  colors,  compounded  of  gold,  silver, 
gems  and  the  black  of  rare  butterflies ;  in  splendor  com- 
parable to  certain  early  Japanese  cabinets  inlaid  with 
mother-of-pearl.  They  represent  an  "excellent  tri- 
fling," which  betrayed  that  Redon  had  succumbed  to 
the  incoherence  of  the  times  and  his  own  increasing 
years. 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Less  the  artist  than  Redon  but  surpassing  him  in 
vogue  was  Gustave  Moreau  (1826-1898).  Directly 
inspired  by  Flaubert  and  praised  extravagantly  by 
Huysmans,  he  passed  in  his  time  for  a  symbolist. 
This  was  because  he  drew  his  subjects  from  myths 
and  legends  and  the  Bible  stories,  connecting  them  in 
groups  which  he  called  "The  Cycle  of  Man,"  "The 
Cycle  of  Woman,"  "The  Cycle  of  the  Lyre"  and  "The 
Cycle  of  Death."  But  in  his  habit  of  crowding  his 
compositions  with  enrichments  of  still-life  detail,  de- 
rived from  German,  Italian,  and  Persian  art,  he  proved 
himself  at  heart  a  naturalist.  It  is  the  word-genre  of 
"Salammbo,"  adapted  to  paint,  that  characterizes  his 
style,  which  depends  upon  and  appeals  to  sense  and 
involves  little  or  no  spiritual  suggestion.  The  large 
watercolor,  The  Apparition  (p.  207),  now  in  the 
Louvre,  is  regarded  as  his  masterpiece  and  is  fairly 
typical  of  the  character  and  method  of  his  work.  The 
technique  is  lacking  both  in  sweep  and  esprit,  involv- 
ing an  elaborate  mosaic  of  minute  bits.  Originally 
the  effect  may  have  been  lustrous  and  jewel-like. 

To-day  it  is  tame  and  spiritless  in  color. 

•  •••••• 

How  the  temper  of  the  time  found  expression  in 
spiritualized  refinement  has  been  illustrated  in  another 
chapter.  Here  it  is  rather  its  mundane  and  material 
phases  that  occupy  attention.  Typical  of  these  in  the 
best  sense,  has  been  Paul  Albert  Besnard  (1849 — ). 
He  is  one  to  whom  the  unusual  is  abhorrent.  He  has 
dipped  into  the  exotic  as  mirrored  in  Southern  sun- 
shine and  Oriental  types  of  femininity.  All  flesh  be- 

C2043 


• 


DECORATION 


MAURICE  DENIS 


LA  FIN  DE  SIECLE 

comes  to  him  constructed  masses  of  plasticity  and  move- 
ment on  which  colored  luminosity  may  play  in  re- 
sponse to  the  magic  of  his  subtle  and  ardent  imagina- 
tion. He  finds  his  motive  equally  in  the  glossy  quar- 
ters of  a  kicking  pony,  annoyed  by  flies;  in  sleeping 
and  crouching  nudes,  as  in  the  woman  illumined  by 
firelight,  Femme  qui  se  Chawffe,  of  the  Luxembourg, 
or  in  the  sporting  torsos  and  limbs  of  young  girls 
plashing  beneath  a  waterfall.  He  extends  his  bizar- 
rerie  of  vision  to  the  portrayal  of  the  nervous  elegance 
of  women  of  society  or  the  voluptuous  liveliness  of  a 
Re  jane.  But,  if  we  except  his  decorations  in  the 
Chemical  Laboratory  of  the  Sorbonne,  where  the  over- 
straining forms  writhe  in  a  welter  of  putrescent  color, 
his  vigorous  mentality  and  executive  ability  in  handling 
the  brush  have  saved  his  painting  from  at  least  the 
weakness  of  decadence. 

One  can  scarcely  say  the  same  of  Gaston  La  Touche 
(1854 — ).  The  blatancy  and  banality  of  an  age  of 
mushroom  millionaires  and  diamond  Kaffir  kings  is 
reflected  in  the  decorative  orgies  of  his  canvases,  where 
men  and  women  are  steeped  in  an  iridescent  slough  of 
self-indulgence,  extravagance  and  lasciviousness  in 
the  company  of  satyrs  and  monkeys.  Yet  his  shallow 
and  vulgar  art  has  been  rewarded  with  a  gold  medal 
at  one  of  the  most  important  exhibitions  in  the  United 
States!  Judged,  however,  by  the  traditions  of  'his 
race,  he  is  a  distant  connection  of  Watteau,  who  has 
debased  the  latter's  art  to  a  more  or  less  tipsy  de- 

bauche. 

«•>••••• 

C205] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

Above  the  confusion  of  tongues,  accompanying  the 
revolt  of  individualism  against  the  time-honored  re- 
strictions imposed  by  official  art  and  public  morality, 
one  cry  resounds:  the  horror  of  the  conventional! 
We  have  seen  how  it  led  Puvis  back  to  the  example  of 
the  Primitives;  and  that  he  reduced  from  it  an  organ- 
ized science  of  decoration  which  suited  his  own  tempera- 
ment and  what  he  felt  to  be  the  spiritual  need  of  the 
time.  Others  have  been  led  farther  back  than  Flor- 
ence of  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries  and 
mostly  without  discovering  for  themselves  any  organ- 
ized system  of  art.  A  forerunner  of  this  backward 
movement  was  Paul  Gauguin  (1851-1903).  A 
Breton  on  his  father's  side,  with  a  strain  of  Peruvian 
on  the  mother's,  he  worked  for  a  time  in  Brittany, 
gathering  followers  around  him  in  what  was  called  the 
School  of  Pont-Aven.  Eventually  the  exoticism  in 
his  blood  drew  him  to  the  island  of  Tahiti  where  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life  was  spent.  He  found  his  models 
in  the  copper-skinned  natives.  They  resemble  those  of 
Samoa,  whose  figures  and  simple  grace  of  life  repre- 
sented to  John  La  Farge  the  nearest  approach  in  the 
modern  world  to  what  he  conceived  of  the  old  world  of 
Hellas. 

These  Tahitians,  whose  nudity  was  almost  complete, 
Gauguin  painted  in  poses  that  recall  the  immobility 
and  profound  calm  of  Egyptian  sculpture,  against  a 
background  of  vivid  green  tropical  verdure,  ruddy 
sands  and  cliffs  and  the  azure  of  sky  and  sea,  or  the 
deep  lapis  lazuli  or  purple  blue  of  shaded  pools  and 
waterfalls.  To  Gauguin,  sick  of  what  he  called  the 

C206] 


THE  APPARITION 


GUSTAVE  MOREAU 


LUXEMBOURG 


LA  FIN  DE  SIECLE 

"disease  of  civilization,"  the  "barbarism  of  this  new 
world,"  he  declared,  "was  a  restoration  to  health."  It 
was  the  "realization  of  his  dreams" — "a  foretaste  of 
Nirvana."  Strindberg  had  been  shocked  by  the  "Eve 
that  dwelt  in  this  Eden."  Gauguin  replied:  "Only 
the  Eve  I  have  painted  can  stand  naked  before  us. 
Yours  would  always  be  shameless  in  this  natural  state." 
Gauguin's  feeling  for  "barbarism"  has  been  misinter- 
preted by  many  younger  painters  whom  he  influenced. 
Meanwhile,  there  is  another  artist  whose  influence 
has  also  gone  awry.  It  is  Henri  de  Toulouse-Lautrec 
(1865-1901).  An  accident  in  childhood  had  robbed 
the  lower  part  of  his  body  of  vitality,  while  his  brain 
was  one  of  singular  acuteness  and  his  appetite  for  life 
as  keen.  Degas  and  Forain  attracted  him  chiefly, 
but  he  was  a  natural  artist  and  quickly  discovered  his 
own  metier  and  method.  In  paintings  and  pastel,  but 
most  decisively  in  lithographs,  he  exhibits  an  exquisite 
sense  of  design  and  nervous,  vibrating  color  and  an 
incisive  use  of  line,  now  strong,  now  delicate,  but  in- 
variably expressive  in  the  highest  degree.  With  this 
technique  that  thrilled  with  the  nervosity  of  the  time, 
he  depicted  fragments  of  the  Vie  Parisienne,  as  dis- 
played on  the  turf,  in  the  hospitals,  cafe-concerts,  bal- 
publics  and  bagnios.  The  grossness  of  many  of  his 
subjects  become  transfigured  by  the  exquisiteness  of 
.his  art.  Accordingly  the  latter  lent  a  cachet  to  the  sub- 
ject, stimulating  its  vogue.  Other  men,  who  found 
his  art  inimitable,  could  emulate  his  choice  of  subject. 
Hence  Toulouse-Lautrec,  like  Gauguin,  though  the 
latter  has  little  of  his  consummate  artistry,  has  had  a 

C207] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

share  in  promoting  the  particular  form  of  decadence 
that  characterizes  much  of  the  painting  of  the  new 
century. 

•  •••••• 

The  significant  feature  that  is  common  to  its  other- 
wise variable  manifestations  consists  of  an  abnormal 
horror  of  everything  that  passes  current  for  propriety 
in  society  as  at  present  constituted.  It  not  only  recog- 
nizes, as  every  thinking  person  does,  that  society  is  suf- 
fering on  the  one  hand  from  a  deep-seated  disease  of 
hypocrisy  and  false  standards  and  on  the  other  from 
a  brutal  callousness  to  consequences  so  long  as  its  own 
materialism  can  be  indulged.  But  it  also  imitates  this 
very  brutality  and  in  the  frenzy  of  its  pessimism  would 
overturn  all  existing  conventions,  heedless  of  the  fact 
that  conventions  must  exist  for  the  preservation  as  well 
of  art  as  of  society,  nay,  of  life  itself,  whether  physical, 
mental  or  spiritual.  "Down  with  everything  that  is 
up!"  This  is  its  insensate  cry  against  that  whicfy  art 
has  sanctified  and  the  conscience  of  the  world  holds 
sacred.  It  raves  most  madly  against  beauty,  as  beauty 
has  heretofore  been  conceived  alike  by  artists  and  by 
man's  yearning  after  betterment.  It  sweeps  aside  all 
culture  and  extols  the  most  primitive  sexual  instincts. 
It  degrades  the  human  body  from  its  place  in  art  as  the 
high  symbol  of  imagined  physical  and  spiritual  har- 
mony and  represents  it  as  a  crude  fleshly  organism,  now 
gross  and  torpid  and  now  contorted  with  the  spasms  of 
animal  desires. 

In  thus  flaunting  the  red  rag  of  anarchy  some  of 
these  men  may  be  actuated  by  the  malicious  enjoyment 

[208] 


PORTRAIT  OF  MLLE.  REJANE 


PAUL  ALBERT  BESNARD 


LA  FIN  DE  SINGLE 

of  outraging  the  philistine  bourgeois;  but  the  majority 
seem  to  be  sincere  in  the  belief  that  out  of  this  chaos 
of  violated  decencies  an  era  of  higher  artistic  purity 
will  ensue.  Meanwhile,  let  us  note  that  it  is  reflecting 
elements  in  the  modern  social  system  that  have  no 
parallel  in  history  and  can  only  be  partially  compared 
to  the  excesses  of  the  degenerate  Roman  Empire. 
The  world's  rapid  increase  of  wealth  has  changed  the 
standards  of  society.  War  to-day  is  seldom  conducted 
by  generals  and  their  armies  but  is  being  waged  per- 
petually by  financiers  and  their  hordes  of  parasites. 
It  has  been  a  war  to  death,  directed  against  private 
rights,  crushing  down  all  opposition  and  resulting  in  a 
power  so  nearly  absolute  that  the  old  standards  of  right 
and  wrong  and  the  old  safeguards  against  their  viola- 
tion have  been  swept  away.  The  spirit  it  has  engen- 
dered is  one  of  cynical  contempt  for  humanity  and 
decency.  It  is  assumed,  and  with  much  reasonableness, 
that  all  men  and  women  have  their  price  and  are  eager 
to  sell  themselves ;  the  highest  rewards  are  not  for  noble 
lives  but  for  success;  and  the  kind  of  intellect  extolled 
is  that  which  is  characterized  by  audacity,  unscrupu- 
lousness,  ferocity  and  cunning.  It  is  to  intellects  of 
this  caliber  that  half  the  world  to-day  crawls  in  abject 
admiration.  In  place  of  the  Goddess  of  Reason  the 
revolutionaries  of  this  later  century  have  set  up  the 
Moloch  of  Success,  whose  creed  is  lust  of  power  and  a 
cynical  reliance  upon  brute  force.  It  is  this  social  and 
economic  "Terror"  that  the  Robespierres  and  the 
Marats  of  modern  painting  have  emulated. 

What  is  to  be  the  end?     Already  the  social  and  eco- 

[209] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

nomic  revolution  is  showing  signs  of  abatement,  and  reor- 
ganization is  in  process  of  being  effected.  Will  a  corre- 
sponding reorganization  be  evolved  from  the  present 
chaos  of  painting?  This  is  the  question  that  particu- 
larly centers  around  the  work  of  Henri  Matisse. 


TAHITI 


PAUL  GAUGUIN 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HENRI   MATISSE 

HENRI  MATISSE  (1862—)  has  come  to  be 
regarded,    by    outsiders    at   any   rate,   as    a 
leader  of  this  movement  of  "Wild  Men," 
partly  through  the  number  of  his  pupils,  partly  through 
the  clear  enunciation  of  what  he  believes  to  be  the  prin- 
ciples involved.     These  he  explains  as  "simplification, 
organization  and  expression."     That  he  may  have  de- 
rived this  triune  motive  from  Cezanne,  of  whom  we 
have  yet  to  speak,  does  'not  alter  the  fact  that  Matisse 
has  been  their  chief  spokesman. 

The  ideas  embedded  in  this  phrase  are  individually 
not  new.  If  there  is  any  novelty  it  is  in  bringing  them 
into  such  concise  and  effective  unity.  It  is  a  fact, 
moreover,  that  they  are  practically  identical  with  the 
principles  which  are  being  relied  upon  to  reorganize  the 
social  and  economic  conditions.  Substitute  for  ex- 
pression the  economic  equivalent,  efficiency,  and  you 
have  the  secret  by  which  the  barons  of  finance  and  in- 
dustry have  acquired  their  bloated  power,  and  by  which 
alone  their  power  can  be  checked  in  the  interest  of  the 
public.  For  the  system  embodied  in  the  ideas  has  come 
to  stay;  and  the  problem  which  confronts  the  statesmen 
of  the  present  time  is  not  to  overthrow  the  results  of 
trust-combination,  but  to  discover  how  the  benefits  of 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

efficiency  as  the  result  of  simplifying  and  organizing 
production  can  be  extended  from  the  strong-boxes  of 
the  few  to  the  well-being  of  the  many. 

The  ideas,  in  fact,  are  so  intrinsically  a  part  of  the 
great  movements  of  the  day  that  Matisse's  advocacy  of 
them  in  relation  to  painting  must  needs  command  at- 
tention. As  a  priori  propositions  they  are  immediately 
acceptable.  The  test  in  his  own  case  consists  in  his  ap- 
plication of  them.  Let  us  realize  at  the  outset  that  he 
inherits  from  impressionism  the  decorative  intention  of 
a  canvas.  When  it  came  to  simplification  he  seems  to 
have  argued  that  he  must  divest  himself  as  far  as  pos- 
sible of  his  original  academic  training;  he  must  get 
back  of  all  acquired  learning,  whether  derived  from 
Italy  or  Greece ;  and  must  try  to  look  at  nature  through 
the  eyes  of  the  primitive  artist  who  had  nothing  but 
instinct  to  rely  on.  So  he  took  counsel  of  the  carved 
wooden  images  of  aboriginal  Africans. 

Such  organization  as  these  exhibited  was  an  in- 
stinctive recognition  of  certain  rude  relationships;  for 
example,  the  connection  and  difference  between  the  ad- 
vanced planes  of  the  nose  and  the  retiring  hollows  of 
the  eye-sockets;  between  the  chunky  surfaces  of  the 
cheeks  and  the  angular  incision  that  indicated  the 
mouth. 

When  it  came  to  the  question  of  expression,  Matisse 
performed  the  feat  of  auto-suggestion,  which  discovered 
what  he  was  looking  for  in  the  thing  in  which  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  it  was  to  be  found. 

One  point,  however,  he  overlooked.  The  primitive 
man  shared  Matisse's  instincts  as  a  decorator,  but  was 

£212  ] 


STUDY  OF  A  WOMAN 


IN  THE  COLLECTION  OF  MR.  LOUIS  STEIN 


HENRI  MATISSE 


HENRI  MATISSE 

entirely  unbothered  by  acquired  ideals  of  harmony  and 
rhythm.  He  transfigured  a  block  of  wood  into  his  vision 
of  nature  and  was  satisfied.  Not  so  the  modern  man. 
Accordingly  Matisse,  in  his  need  to  secure  an  abso- 
lutely harmonious  and  rhythmic  arabesque  to  his  compo- 
sitions, has  found  it  necessary  to  ignore  his  vision  of 
nature.  In  a  certain  picture,  for  example,  one  of  the 
woman's  legs  "came  out"  longer  and  bigger  than  the 
other.  It  was  regrettable;  Matisse  admitted  his  tem- 
porary failure;  but  to  have  reorganized  the  legs  on  a 
basis  of  natural  observation  would  have  interfered  with 
the  harmony  and  rhythm  of  the  whole. 

Is  this  a  pose,  people  ask,  or  simply  foolishness? 
Apparently  neither;  but  the  result  of  a  quite  naive 
instinct  that  compels  him  to  push  on,  no  matter  how 
he  stumble.  Moreover,  he  is  possibly  less  shocked  by 
the  violation  of  form,  because  it  is  not  form  but  the 
expression  inherent  in  the  movement  of  form  which  he 
desires  to  render.  He  and  all  the  new  men  have  this 
at  least  in  common:  that  they  are  sick  of  the  photo- 
graphic side  of  modern  painting;  the  outcome  of 
naturalism  and  impressionism,  satisfied  to  give  the 
actual  appearance  of  an  object.  They  affirm,  with 
truth,  that  the  camera  has  invaded  this  field  and  is  capa- 
ble of  thoroughly  exploring  it;  that  the  painter,  if  he 
is  to  recover  an  exclusive  territory  for  his  art,  must 
push  those  means  at  his  disposal  in  which  the  camera 
cannot  emulate  him.  He  must  carry  simplification 
beyond  the  camera's  limited  capacity  to  simplify  and 
must  rely  especially  upon  that  which  is  absolutely  out- 
side the  camera's  ability,  namely,  organization.  Thus 

[213;] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

he  leaves  photography  to  play  with  the  representation 
of  form,  while  he,  like  El  Greco,  will  subordinate,  and 
if  necessary,  sacrifice  or  violate,  form  for  the  sake  of  the 
supreme  end — expression. 

Now  to  most  people  El  Greco  is  insufferable.  They 
don't  like  him  and  don't  wish  to;  for  he  upsets  their 
cherished  maxim  that  a  spade  should  resemble  a  spade. 
However,  until  you  have  not  only  appreciated  what 
El  Greco  set  out  to  do  but  are  also  enthusiastic  over  his 
achievement,  you  cannot  begin  to  be  in  a  position  to 
study  Matisse  and  many  other  moderns  sympathetically, 
much  less  understandingly  For  Matisse  is  no  more 
a  freak  or  a  crazy  man  than  was  El  Greco.  But  there 
is  this  great  difference  between  their  motives.  The 
Toledan  artist's  instinct  was  religious;  and  his  expres- 
sion spiritual;  while  the  expression  and  instinct  of 
Matisse  are  alike  governed  by*  the  senses. 

In  the  summer  of  1910  I  found  him  in  his  country 
studio  working  upon  two  large  decorations,  Dance 
and  Music,  for  a  private  house  in  Russia.  Each  com- 
position involved  a  group  of  nudes  seen  upon  a  grassy 
summit,  partly  against  the  sky.  The  latter  was  blue; 
the  grass  a  lively  green  and  the  figures  vermilion;  the 
pigments  being  pure  from  the  tubes,  except  for  some 
mixing  of  white  to  render  the  variety  of  tones. 

This  choice  of  color  scheme  may  have  been  sug- 
gested by  the  frequency  with  which  it  occurs  in  Russian 
pictures,  where  the  landscape  is  quite  usually  enlivened 
by  a  red  barn.  The  use  of  the  vermilion  for  the 
figures  occasions  the  eye  a  temporary  shock,  but  reason 
suggests  that  it  is  only  pushing  some  degrees  further 


HENRI  MATISSE 

the  decorative  convention  of  Puvis,  who  rendered  his 
flesh  colors  in  slightly  lower  tone  than  that  of  the  reddish- 
brown  ground.  The  effect,  however,  in  Matisse's 
canvas  is  barbaric,  which  may  well  have  been  the  artist's 
intention,  and  assists  the  primitive,  elemental,  one  might 
almost  say  rudimentary,  expression  of  the  whole.  For 
the  rhythms  of  these  dancing  figures  are  those  of  in- 
stinct and  nature.  Matisse  explains  that  he  derived 
inspiration  for  them  from  watching  the  soldiers  and 
ouvriers  dancing  with  their  sweethearts  at  the  Moulin 
des  Gaieties;  and  added  that  the  ballet  at  the  opera 
interested  him  but  was  too  artificial;  in  fact  too 
organise.  He  searches  for  the  natural  impression  and 
then  does  the  organizing  for  himself.  And  in  the  case 
of  the  Dance,  organization  and  simplification  were 
schemed  to  produce  an  expression  of  purely  physical 
abandonment  of  lusty  forms  to  sense  intoxication. 
Contrasted  with  the  dynamic  delirium  of  this  canvas 
was  the  static  character  of  the  Music  panel.  A  nude 
youth  stood  erect  playing  a  violin,  the  tension  of  his 
body  as  taut  and  vibrating  as  that  of  the  strings. 
Beside  him  was  seated  a  woman  playing  upon  two 
pipes,  the  fluting  freedom  of  the  music  being  remarka- 
bly echoed  in  the  mobile,  willowy  arabesque  of  the 
figure's  torso  and  limbs.  There  was  also  a  man  who 
sang.  His  limbs  were  gathered  up  close  to  his  body 
very  much  in  the  attitude  of  a  jumper,  while  through 
the  wide  opening  of  the  mouth  his  whole  nature  seemed 
to  be  draining  out.  There  were  other  figures,  but  the 
above  are  sufficiently  suggestive  of  the  abstract  char- 
acter of  the  conception  and  treatment.  I  understand 

[215] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

that  they  have  been  changed,  in  order  to  approach  more 
nearly  the  movement  of  the  other  canvas. 

This  seems  to  me  significant,  for  the  Dance  was 
animal  in  feeling,  compared  with  the  subtlety  of  ex- 
pression of  the  Mime.  It  suggests  that  the  bias  of 
Matisse's  imagination  is  physical;  that  it  is  deficient  in 
the  finer  qualities.  Even  on  the  physical  side  he  is 
gourmand  rather  than  gourmet.  In  his  technique  he 
does  not  exhibit  the  Frenchman's  sense  of  craftsman- 
ship; his  surfaces  and  contours  are  as  uncouth  as  those 
of  his  African  wood  carvings. 

To  a  considerable  extent  this  is  probably  intentional, 
a  means  of  discouraging  the  eye  from  dwelling  upon 
externals  and  of  drawing  the  imagination  to  the  inner 
movement  of  the  forms.  Yet,  if  so,  the  purpose  is 
but  a  part  of  the  sophistication  which  seems  to  be  the 
worm  i'  the  bud  of  Matisse's  art.  Perhaps  inevitably; 
for  a  man  trained  in  the  traditions  cannot  strip  himself 
naked  of  memories  and  experiences  and  profess  to 
consort  with  aborigines  without  being  conscious  of  a 
pose  and  without  to  some  extent  becoming  a  victim 
to  it.  But  he  is  still  in  the  vigor  of  his  life;  and  may 
yet  abandon  the  role  of  a  protester  and  theorizer  and 
follow  implicitly  and  naturally  the  call  of  his  instinct; 
not  the  instinct  that  he  has  tried  to  pare  down  to  that 
of  a  primitive  wood-cutter,  but  his  own. 


CHAPTER  XX 

PAUL   CEZANNE 

IN  a  letter  dated  a  year  or  so  before  his  death 
Cezanne  wrote:  "I  am  too  old;  I  have  not  real- 
ized; I  shall  not  realize  now.  I  remain  the  primi- 
tive of  the  way  which  I  have  discovered."  What  the 
way  was  is  summarized  by  his  artist-friend,  Emile 
Bernard,  as  "a  bridge,  thrown  across  conventional 
routine,  by  which  impressionism  may  return  to  the 
Louvre  and  to  the  life  profound." 

Cezanne  was  born  at  Aix  in  Provence  in  1839. 
Among  his  college  friends  was  Zola  with  whom  he 
shared  a  taste  for  literature  and  entered  into  rivalry 
in  prose  and  poetic  compositions.  It  was  not  until  he 
visited  Paris  and  was  introduced  by  Zola  to  Courbet 
and  Manet  that  his  thoughts  turned  to  painting.  Soon, 
in  favor  of  the  latter,  he  renounced  all  other  interests 
and  settled  down  to  that  concentrated  and  patient  study 
of  nature  and  art  which  dominated  the  remainder  of 
his  life. 

He  passed  through  a  period  of  absorbing  the  influ- 
ence of  others;  by  turns  Delacroix,  Daumier,  Courbet 
and  finally  Manet,  among  whose  followers  he  figured 
fpr  a  time  conspicuously.  Then  he  grew  dissatisfied 
with  impressionism  and  retired  to  Aix  to  prosecute  his 
studies  in  seclusion.  He  ceased  to  exhibit  and  Paris 

£2171] 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

had  forgotten  his  existence,  when  in  1899  a  number  of 
his  pictures  appeared  in  the  sale  of  his  friend,  M. 
Choquet's,  collection.  From  this  event  dated  his 
present  reputation  and  the  influence  which  he  has 
exerted  on  Matisse  and  the  still  younger  painters,  who 
call  him  reverently,  the  Sage.  He  died  at  Aix  in 
1905. 


Cezanne's  dissent  from  impressionism  grew  out  of 
what  he  believed  to  be  its  two  deficiencies.  One  antici- 
pated the  later  development  of  neo-impressionism,  in 
so  far  as  the  latter  has  tried  to  substitute  scientific  cer- 
tainty for  "instinct"  and  "inspiration."  The  other  was 
a  reaction  from  the  flat  arabesques  of  impressionism  to 
a  more  constructive  kind  of  composition ;  which  should 
replace  the  fugitive  effects  with  those  of  bulk  and  perma- 
nence. Impressionism  was  too  much  at  the  mercy  of 
temperament,  too  preoccupied  with  the  merely  passing 
show.  Hence  its  manifest  inferiority  to  the  great  art 
_of  the  past. 

On  the  other  hand  the  latter  ceased  to  be  a  living  ex- 
pression with  the  passing  of  the  life  to  which  it  had 
responded  and  the  academic,  classicali/ed  attempt  to 
perpetuate  it  artifically  has  resulted  in  "conventional 
routine."  It  was  over  this  routine  that  Cezanne  set 
himself  to  build  a  bridge,  which  should  unite  the  throb- 
bing life  of  to-day  with  the  noble  art  of  the  past,  and  let 
some  of  the  profound  life  of  Classic  art  pass  across  into 
the  art  of  the  present. 

No  one  will  dispute  the  grandeur  of  the  aim  or  the 
need  of  achieving  it,  if  modern  painting  is  ever  to  take 
rank  not  only  with  the  great  art  of  the  past  but  also 

C218] 


PAUL  CEZANNE 

with  the  great  works  of  the  present  in  other  departments 
of  civilization. 

Cezanne  recognized  that  modern  painting  in  its 
effort  to  recover  greatness  was  debarred  for  the  most 
part  from  one  source  of  Italian  grandeur.  It  could  no 
longer  ally  itself  to  the  sumptuousness  of  that  life  and 
reinforce  itself  with  the  superb  illustration  of  Biblical 
and  mythological  lore.  It  was  compelled  to  be  the  ex- 
pression of  a  life  whose  main  characteristic  is  a  keen 
consciousness  of  actualities.  The  painter  of  to-day 
cannot  soar  into  the  clouds ;  he  must  occupy  himself  with 
the  actual  perceptions  of  things  as  they  are.  He  can, 
however,  save  himself  from  banality  by  relying  upon 
his  sensations,  aroused  by  the  perceptions,  and  by  giv- 
ing to  them  a  concrete  form.  This,  in  fact,  was  what 
impressionism  had  done. 

How  was  it  possible  to  alleviate  the  oppression  of 
concreteness  and  increase  the  suggestion  of  the  abstract 
sensations ;  to  reduce  the  appeal  to  the  eye  and  magnify 
the  claim  on  the  imagination? 

Cezanne  attacked  the  problem  intellectually;  taking 
account  of  the  psychology  of  perceptions  and  analyz- 
ing them  with  the  untiring  scrutiny  of  the  scientist. 
He  reasoned,  for  example,  that  to  move  the  spectator 
deeply  the  artist  must  have  recourse  to  depth.  /In" 
place  of  the  flat  arabesques  of  the  impressionists  he 
revived  the  concavities  of  composition.  Further,  he 
rejected  the  elements  of  form  in  flat  geometrical  de- 
signs, the  triangle,  rectangle  and  circle,  in  favor  of  the 
rounded  forms,  the  cone,  cylinder  and  sphere.  He  also 
adopted  as  an  axiom  that  all  forms  in  nature  create  a 

C2193 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

sensation  of  revolving1  upon  themselves  and  around  a 
point  in  space. 

In  his  analytical  experiments  with  color  Cezanne 
ran  the  gamut  from  dark  to  light.  He  early  broke 
away  from  the  impressionist's  slavish  adherence  to  the 
perceptions  of  color.  It  was  the  sensations  excited  by 
the  perceptions  that  he  aimed  to  render.  Thus,  in  his 
early  still-life  pictures  he  would  make  his  shadows  in 
some  cases  as  black  as  ink;  and  in  his  later  figure-sub- 
jects never  hesitate  to  throw  up  the  roundness  of  a  form 
by  a  dark  line,  that  to  the  out-and-out  impressionist  is 
a  horrible  violation  of  nature's  truth.  And  yet  the 
amazing  thing  is  that  the  net  result  in  Cezanne  im- 
presses us  by  its  fidelity  to  nature. 

One  may  see  a  number  of  his  figure-subjects  in  the 
collection  of  M.  Pellerin  and  at  the  gallery  of  M.  Vol- 
lard,  a  dealer  whose  rare  instinct  anticipated  the  genuine 
recognition  of  Cezanne's  artistic  significance.  A  few 
models  have  served  him  for  his  experiments,  and  they 
are  placed  against  a  slaty-gray  background  in  clothes 
that  chiefly  repeat  black,  gray  and  dull  blue.  These 
and  the  flesh  tints  make  up  the  color  schemes.  But, 
when  you  come  to  examine  the  quality  of  these  hues,  you 
find  them  threaded  through  and  through  with  variety 
of  hue  and  tone.  His  grays,  for  example,  are  a  blend 
of  rose  and  blue,  often  interspersed  with  yellow;  a 
bloom  of  soft  deep  coloring,  velvety  in  texture.  The 
flesh  tints  are  correspondingly  complex,  resulting  in  a 
texture  as  firm,  colorful  and  luscious  as  fruit.  Yet  the 
faces  are  impassive  and  the  figures  uncouth,  like  roughly 


PAUL  CEZANNE 

hewn  chunks  of  form.  The  expression  is  in  the  eyes 
and  hands  which  echo  each  other  with  an  extraordinary 
unity  of  feeling  that  yet  always  allows  predominance  of 
accent  to  the  head. 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  Cezanne's  pictures  of  still- 
life  which  in  beauty  of  color  and  grandeur  of  feeling 
have  probably  never  been  surpassed.  His  landscapes, 
while  commandingly  natural,  arouse  sensations  pro- 
foundly abstract.  His  groups  of  nudes  in  the  open  air, 
many  of  which  suggest  that  he  was  acquainted  with  El 
Greco's  art,  sacrifice  truth  of  form  to  the  greater  sig- 
nificance of  movement.  Viewed  abstractly  as  symbols, 
the  compositions  are  highly  impressive,  their  expression 
mysteriously  entrancing. 

In  later  work  the  influence  of  the  southern  sunshine 
is  apparent.  The  positiveness  of  the  colors  becomes  re- 
solved in  the  circumambience  of  light ;  until  in  his  water- 
colors,  the  unpremeditated  analysis  of  a  temporary 
perception,  the  merest  washes,  almost  colorless,  suggest 
the  sensation  of  constructed  planes  of  level  land  and 
mountains.  Anything  more  reasonably  interpretative 
and  at  the  same  time  more  abstract  in  sensation  can 
scarcely  be  imagined.  His  watercolors  probably  come 
nearest  to  "realization"  of  all  his  work. 

But  that  Cezanne,  as  he  admitted,  never  fully  real- 
ized himself  is  in  the  long  story  of  French  painting  of 
little  moment,  when  compared  with  his  actual  achieve- 
ment and  its  influence  upon  future  progress.  For  his 
work  involves  a  feeling  of  magnitude  and  profound  sig- 
nificance such  as  no  other  modern  painter  has  attained. 

[Ml  3 


THE  STORY  OF  FRENCH  PAINTING 

It  is  these  qualities  that  have  impressed  the  younger 
generation  and  may  yet  enable  it  to  construct  solidly  and 
for  long  time  a  "bridge  across  conventional  routine,  by 
which  impressionism  (and  neo-impressionism  also)  may 
return  to  the  Louvre  and  the  life  profound." 


THE   END 


[222:1 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Aachen.     See  Aix-la-t'hapellr 

Academic.     See  classical 

Academic   Franchise,  54,   55 

Academy  of  Painting  and  Sculpture,  56,  62, 

63,  67,  68,   97 
Adam  de  la  Halle,  11,  12 
Adrian,  Pope,  16 

African  aboriginal  motive,  212,  216 
Aix-in-Provence,  217,   218 
Aix-Ia-Chapelle,  16 
Alexander  the  Great,  47 
Alexander  VI,  Pope,  7 
Allemans,  4 

America,  106,   125,   143 
American  spirit,   77,   92 
Amiens,  Museum  of,  195 
Amman-Jean,  Edouard,  190;   Jeanne  D'Arc, 

190;  St.  Genevieve,  190 
Amyot,  Jacques,  40 
Andelys,  Les,  63 
Anet,  Chateau  d',  49 

Angels  at  the  Tomb  of  Christ  [Manet],  167 
Angelas,  The  [Millet],  155 
Anjou,  7 

Anne  of  Austria,  51 
Anne  of  Beaujeu,  7 ;  Portrait  of  Anne  of 

Beaujeu,  31 
Anne  of  Brittany,  7,   8 
Antwerp    Museum,    Pictures    in:    Foucquet, 

35;  Van  Orley,  42 
Aquitaine,  5 
"A  Rebours,"  202 
Aristocracy,  75,   77 ;   aristocratic  spirit  in 

painting,  91,  130 
Arthurian  Legend,  10 
Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  [Dela- 

roche],  122 

Assumption  of  the  Virgin  [Prud'hon],  100 
Audran,  Claude,  72 
Augrand,  Charles,  187 
Autumn    [Poussin],   65 
Auvergne,  5 
"Aveugles,  Les,"  171 
Avignon,  32;  papal  palace  of,  28;  school 

of,  28 

B 

Bal  du  Bois  [Lancret],  79 

Balzac,  157 

Barbizon,   105,    128,    130,    131,    136,    137, 

139,   149,    150,   153,   155,   156,   161 
Barthelemy,  Abbe,  93 

Bartholomew,  Massacre  of.     See  Massacre 
Bastien-Lepage,  Jules,  158 


Battle  of  Solferino  [Meissonier],  123 

Baudelaire,  116,  202 

Bazoche  du  Palais,  La,  13 

Beatrice  [Bedon],  203 

Bellay,  Du,  48 

Bellechose,  Henri,  24 

Bellini,  32 

Beranger,  108 

Berlin,  Museum,  35 ;  royal  palace,  73 

Berlioz,  191 

Bernard,  fimile,  217 

Bernhardt,  Sara,  171 

Berlin,  131,   132 

Besnard,  Paul  Albert,  204;  Femme  qui  se 

Chauffe,  205 ;  portrait  of  Mile.  Rejane, 

205;  Decorations  of  the  Sorbonne,  205 
Biblical  subjects,  133,   190,  204,  219 
Bibliotheque  Nationale,  23 
Bidassoa,  River,  52 
Blanc,  Charles,  167 
Boccaccio,  9,  11 

Bohemiens  de  Paris   [Daumler],   126 
Boileau,  54 
Bon  de  Boulogne,  61 
Bonaparte.     See  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  on  the  Bridge  at  Arcola  [Gros], 

109 
Bonaparte  Visiting  the  Plague-stricken  at 

Jaffa  [Gros],  109 
Bonheur,  Mme.  Rosa,  147 
Bonington,  Richard  Parkes,  131 
Bossuet,  55,  59 

Bossuet,  Portrait  of  [Rigaud],  59 
Boston  Public  Library,   199 
Boucher,  Francois,  80,  81,  94,  100 
Bouguereau,  William  Adolphe,  122,  151 
Bourbon,  Antoine  de,  46 ;  house  of,  47,  105 
Bourdon,  Sebastien,  61 
Bourgeoise,  7,  120,   165 
Boy  with  a  Sword  [Manet],  167 
Brahms,  191 
Breton,  Jules,  157 
Brittany,  206 
Browning,  Robert,  164 
Brunet,  G.,  167 

Bude,  Guillaume  (Budaeus),  40 
Burger-Thore,  116,   131,   167 
Burgundian  School  of  Painting,  31 
Burgundians,  4 
Byzantium,   Byzantine   influence,   16,    21, 

22,  24,  30 


Cabanel,  Alexandra,  122 
Calvin,  9,  39,  40 


1225-2 


INDEX 


Camera,  The,  124 

Canada,  A  French  Colony,  41,  75 

Canova,  100 

Capet,  Hugh,  4,  5 ;  Capetian  dynasty,  6 

Caravaggio,  61,   167,   177 

Carlovingian  dynasty,  4,  51 

Carriere,    Eugene,    193,    194;    Maternity. 

193;  Crucifixion,  193 
Carthusian  monks  depicted,  30 
Cartier,  Jacque,  41 
Cathedrals,  building  of,  18 
Catholic  Church,  45,  46,  57,   75 
Cazin,  Jean  Charles,  189;  Hagar  and  Inh- 

mael  in  the  Wilderness,  190 
Cellini,  Benvenuto,  42,  49 
Celts,  4,  5,   10,  38,  77 
Cezanne,  Paul,  211-217 
Chamagne,  Chateau  de,  65 
Champagne,  Philippe  de,  63 
Chansons  de  Gestes,  9,   10 
Chansons  de  Roland,  10 
"Chantecler,"  bv  M.  Rostand,  11 
Chantilly,  34 
"Characteristics    of    Men,    Opinions    and 

Times"   [Earl  of  Shaftsbury],   118 
Chardin,  Jean  Baptiste  Simeon,  70,  81,  86, 

88,  89 ;  The  Ray  Fish,  88 
Charenton,  116 
Charivari,  Drawings  for,  126 
Charlemagne,  4,  10,  16 
Charles  II  of  Spain,  52 
Charles  VI  of  France,  34 
Charles   VII  of  France,  Portrait  of    [Fouc- 

quet],  34 
Charles  VIII,  7 
Charles  IX,  44,  45;   portrait  of  [Olouet], 

33 
Charlet,   Nicolas   Toussaint,    124;   Episode 

in  the  Retreat  from  Russia,  124 
Chateaubriand,   106,    107,    121 
Chivalry,  6 

Choquet,  M.,  Sale  of  the  collection  of,  218 
Chrestien  de  Troyes,  10 
Christ  Dead  [Primitive],  24 
Christianity,  15 
Claretie,  Jules,  170 
Classic,  66,    67,   93,    118,    132,    133,    134, 

218 
Classical,  63,  93,  97,   101,  103,   104,   105, 

108,    110,     112,     115,    116,    121,    126, 

129,    132,     138,    149,    151,     161,     164, 

168,   182 

Clement,  Jacques,  46 
Clotilda,  15 
Clouet,  Francois,  43,   44;   Portrait  of 

Charles  IX,  44 
Clouet,  Jean,  43 ;  Portrait  of  Franyois  I, 

43 

Clovis,  4,  5 

Colbert,  Minister  of  Finance,  53 
Coligny,  Admiral,  Portrait  of,  45 
Color,  98,  101,  102,  113,  114,  133,  142, 

144,  175,  176,  182,  193,  198,  220 
Color,  Division  of,  183,  184 
Comedie  Francaise,  68 
Confraternity  of  the  Passion,  12 
Constable,  John,  114,  115,  131,  133,  134, 

136,     137,     138,    139,    141;    The    Hay 

Wain,    136,    142,    143,    145,    146,    157, 

167,  175,   176 
"Contes"  of  La  Fontaine,  11 
Conversation    Galante    [Lancret],    79; 


Conversation  Galante    [Pater],   79 

Corneille,  54,  55 

Coronation  of  Napoleon    [David],   108 

Corot,  Jean  Baptiste  Camille,  67,  121, 
131-136,  142,  143,  149,  197 

Correggio,  100,  144 

Courbet,  Gustave,  160-165,  166,  168; 
The  Stone-Breakers.  160,  163,  180, 
217;  Funeral  at  Ornans,  160,  163, 
168;  Grisettes  Lying  on  the  Banks  of 
the  Seine,  164;  Le  ReveU,  164 

Cousin,  Jean,  42;  Last  Judgment,  42 

Couture,  Thomas,  122,  161,  166;  Romans 
of  the  Decadence,  122,  161 

C6te  de  Granville   [Rousseau],    131,   136 

Cottet,  Charles,  159 

Credi,  Lorenzo  di,  200,  201 

Croix,  Chapel  of  St.,  200 

Cross,  Henri  Edmond,  183,  186 

Crozat,  72 

Crucifixion   [Carriere],  193 

Crusades,  6 

"Cry  of  the  Soil,  The,"  155 

Cupids  Reposing,  Cupids  Sporting  [Frago- 
nard],  81 

Cuyp,  Albert,  66 


D 

Dance,  The  [Matisse],  214 

Dente's  Bark    [Delacroix],   112,   114,    115 

Danton,  96 

"Darklings,"  School  of,  177 

Daubigny,  Charles  Francois,  121,  126,  134, 
143,  145;  The  Timber-Wagon,  145 

Daumier,  Honore,  125,  126,  152,  153, 
197,  217;  Le  Wagon  de  Troisieme 
Classe,  125;  Emotions  Parisiennes, 
Bohemiens  de  Paris,  Histoire  Ancienne, 
Le  Ventre  Legislatif,  126 

David,  Jacques  Louis,  91,  93,  94,  95;  offi- 
cial authority  on  fine  arts,  96 ;  adopts 
Greek  model,  99 ;  master  of  Ingres, 
101,  108,  109,  113,  117;  Oath  of  th* 
Horatii,  91,  94,  112 ;  Rape  of  the 
Sabine  Women,  99 ;  Portrait  of  Mme. 
Recamier,  99;  Coronation  of  Napoleon, 
108 

Days  of  the  Terror,  76 

Debussy,  171 

Decadence  of  the  Fin-de-Siecle,  208 

Decameron,  9 

Decamps,  Alexandre,  127;  Night  Patrol 
at  Smyrna,  The  Watering  Place,  127 

Degas,  Edgar  Hillaire  Germain,  170,  172, 
174,  175,  181,  197,  207 

Delacroix,  Ferdinand  Victor  Eugene,  81, 
110-120,  126,  130,  142,  143,  144, 
168,  175,  176,  177,  183,  184,  186, 
217;  Dante's  Bark,  112,  114,  115; 
The  Massacre  of  Chios,  114,  115; 
Horses  Fighting  in  a  Stable,  Medea, 
118 

Delaroche,  Paul,  121,  149;  Assassination 
of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  Oliver  Cromwell 
Viewing  the  Body  of  Charles  I,  The 
Young  Princes  in  the  Tower,  Hemicycle 
of  the  Arts,  122 

Denis,  Maurice,  200,  201 

Deposition,  The  [Primitive],  26;  com- 
pared with  Pietd,  29 


C226] 


INDEX 


Descartes,  55 

Descartes,  Portrait  of   [Bourdon],  61 

Desportes,  Francois,  61 

Diana  [Goujon],  49 

Diane,  50 

Diane  de  Poitiers,  48 

Diaz,    de    la    Pena,   Narcisse    Virgile,    121, 

143,  144,   145 

Diderot,  70,  87;  estimate  of  Chardin,   89 
Dieterle,  Mme.  Marie,  47 
Dimanche    sur    le    Grande-Jatte    [Seurat], 

183 

Division  of  color,  183,   184 
Division  of  touch,  186 
Drama,   13 ;    influence   on   early   pictures, 

25 ;  classical,  55 ;  romantic,  105 
Drevet,  59 
Du  Barry,  Mme.,  75 
Dubois-Pillet,  Albert,  184 
Dupre,  Jules,  121,   129,   143,   144,  145 
Duranty,  168 
Duret,  Theodore,  184 


East,  civilization  of,  6 

Ecole  des  Beaux-Arts,  97,  122,  166 

Edge  of  the  Forest — Sunset  [Rousseau],  141 

Edict  of  Nantes,  47 

Edwin   Edwards   and  his    Wife,   Portrait   of 
[Fantin-Latour],  192 

El  Greco,  214,   221 

Eliot  George,  171 

Elizabeth   of  Austria,  44 

Embarkation  for  the  Island  of  Cythera 
[Watteau],  68,  73 

Emotions  Parisiennes   [Daumier],   126 

Enfants  Sans  Souci,  Les,  13 

England,   war   with,    6,    75 ;    influence   on 
French  painting,   114,   115,   137 

Entombment,  The   [Primitive],  24 

Ephrussi,  Charles,  168 

Epic  of  Arthur,  14 

Episode  in  the  Retreat  from  Russia  [Char- 
let],  124 

Erasmus,  40 

Escorial,  57 

Esprit  gaulois,  10,  36,  58,  68,   71,  7"?,  76, 
77,   78,  89,  99,  100,   128,   132 

Esprits  Doux,  55 

Etampes,  Duchesse  d',  47 

Et  Ego  in  Arcadia  [Poussin],  64 

Etienne  Chevalier,  34 

Etienne  Chevalier,  Portrait  of   [Foucquet], 

,   35 

Etiennes,  40 

Expression,  117,  185,  197,   198,  212,  213 


Fables  of  La  Fontaine,  54 

"Fabliaux,"   10,    13 

Fantin-Latour,  Henri,  191,  192,  103;  Por- 
trait of  Manet,  192;  Portrait  of  Ed- 
win Edwards  and  his  Wife,  192 

Farces,  13 

Father  Reading  the  Bible  to  his  Children,  A 
[Greuze],  86 

Father's  Curse,  The  [Greuze],  86 

Faust,   115 


Feminine  influence  in  government,  8,  9,  51 

Feminine  representation  in  painting,  36,   81 

Femme  qui  se  Chauffe  [Besnard],  205 

F£te  Galante   [Pater],  79 

Fete  in  a  Park  [Pater],  79 

FSte  in  a  Wood  [Lancret],  79 

Files  Galantes,  70,  73,  78,  86 

Feudal  system,  5 ;   disintegration  of,  7,  8 

Fielding  Copley,  131 

Fin-de-Siecle,  202 

Flanders,  5,   17 

Flaubert,  202,  204 

Flemish  School,  31,  63 ;  influence  of,  167 

Florence,  76;  art  of,  195 

Fontainebleau,  court  at,  9 ;  Italian  painters 
at,  23,  42 ;  school  of,  47,  50 ;  forest  of, 
105,  130,  131 

Fool  Companies,  13 

Forain,  207 

Forge,  The  [Le  Nam],  62 

Form  in  art,  98,   101 

Foucquet,  Jean,  25,  33-36;  Portrait  of 
Charles  Y77,  34;  Portrait  of  Juvenal 
des  Ursins,  34;  Portrait  of  £tienne 
Chevalier  with  St.  Stephen,  35;  Vir- 
gin and  Child,  35 

Four  Seasons,  The   [Lancret],   79 

Fragonard,  Jean  Honore,  78,  81,  181, 
182  ;  Le  Grand  Pretre  Croesus  se  Sacri- 
fie  pour  Sauver  Calirrhoe,  81;  Cupid* 
Sporting,  81;  Cupids  Resting,  81; 
Women  Bathing,  181 

France,  before  Renaissance,  3 ;  formation 
of  kingdom,  4 ;  Capetian  dynasty,  5 ; 
crusades  and  English  war,  6 ;  feudal 
system,  71 ;  union  with  Brittany  and 
Anjou,  71;  Charlemagne,  16;  cathe- 
drals built,  18 ;  development  of  paint- 
ing, 21;  conditions  at  the  accession  of 
Charles  VII.  34;  Renaissance,  37; 
religious  conditions,  38;  printing  press, 
39;  scholarship,  39,  40;  colonial  ac- 
tivity, 41;  prftronage  of  art  and  letters, 
41;  Charles  IX,  44,  45;  Henri  II,  45; 
Catherine  de'  Medici,  45 ;  Catholics 
and  Huguenots,  45 ;  Henri  III,  45 ; 
power  of  the  Guises,  46;  St.  Barthol- 
omew, 46 ;  profligacy  at  court,  46 ; 
the  League,  47;  Henri  IV,  47;  in- 
fluence of  Diane  de  Poitiers,  48 ;  Louis 
XIII,  influence  of  Richelieu,  Mazarin, 
52 ;  marriage  of  Louis  XIV,  53 ;  Col- 
bert, 53  ;  war  of  the  Spanish  Succession, 
53 ;  art  and  letters,  54 ;  coterie  or 
salon,  55 ;  Louis  XV,  70 ;  the  regency, 
71 ;  reign  of  Louis  XV,  74 ;  decline,  75 ; 
frivolity  of  Louis  XVI,  92 ;  spirit  of 
independence,  92 ;  the  Roman  ideal, 
92 ;  confusion  of  the  revolution,  96 ; 
Napoleon,  96;  revolution  of  1830,  105; 
Lonis  Philippe,  120  ;  revolution  of  1848, 
120;  second  empire,  120;  Sedan,  123; 
Franco-Prussian  war,  170 

Francis  I,  accession,  3,  45,  46,  47;  por- 
traits of,  43 

Francis  II,  45 

Franco-Prussian  War,  170 

Prankish  strain,  4,  17 

French  race,  4 

Froment,  Nicolas,  32 

Fromentin,  Eugene,  128,   136 

Funeral  at  Ornans  [Courbet],  160,  168 


C227] 


INDEX 


Gallic  spirit.     See  esprit  gaulois 

Gallic  strain,  5 

Gascony,  5 

Gauguin,  Paul,  206 

Gautier,  Theophile,  105,  108,  116,  131, 
167 

Gellee,  Claude.     See  Lorrain 

Genevieve,  Ste.,  190;  Cycle  of  [Puvis], 
198,  199 

"Genius  of  Christianity,  The,"  166 

Genius  of  the  French,  3,  1*,  50,  55,  56, 
58,  63,  98,  119,  137,  138,  140,  180, 
216 

Geometric   composition,   20,    26,    173,   219 

Gerard,  Baron  Francois  Pascal,  99,  101, 
117 

Gericault,  Theodore,  110,  111,  114,  120; 
An  Officer  of  the  Chasseur  Guarde, 
111;  The  Wounded  Cuirassier,  111; 
The  Raft  of  the  Medusa,  111,  112; 
The  Race  for  the  Derby,  113 

Germain,  Faubourg  St.,  71,  200 

German  influence  in  art,  204 

German  Romanticists,  115 

German  strain,  5 

Gerome,  Leon,  122 

Gillaumin,    170 

Gillot,  Claude,  72 

Giotto,  22,  28,   195,   197 

Girodet,  Anne  Louis,  101,  110,  117 

Gleaners,  The  [Millet],  153 

Goethe,  107,   115 

Goncourts,  The,  202 

Gothic  strain,  4;  influence  of,  107 

Goujon,  49 

Goya,  142 

Grand  Monarque,  Le,  53,  68,  73,  75,  76, 
83 

Grand  style,  115,  126,  162 

Grand  Trianon,  75 

Greek  colonies,  4 

Greek  ideal,  The,  93,  98,  99,  130,  132, 
134,  150,  151,  153,  190 

Greek  spirit,  65,    115,   118 

Greuze,  Jean  Baptiste,  71,  86,  87,  88,  89; 
The  Village  Bride,  86;  A  Father 
Reading  the  Bible  to  his  Children,  86 ; 
A  Father's  Curse,  86;  The  Son  Chast- 
ened, 86 

Gringoire,  Pierre,  113 

Grisettes  Lying  on  the  Bank  of  the  Seine 
[Courbet],  164 

Grolier,  Jean,  39 

Gros,  Jean,  109,  115,  124;  Bonaparte  on 
the  Bridge  at  Arcola,  109;  Bonaparte 
Visiting  the  Plague-stricken  at  Jaffa, 
109;  Napoleon  at  Eylau,  109;  Her- 
cules Causing  Diomedes  to  be  De- 
voured, 110;  Battle  of  the  Pyramids, 
111 

Gruchy,  149 

Gu6rin,  Pierre  Narcisse,  110 

Guise,  Duke  of,  45,  46,  47 

Guitarist,  The  [Manet],  167 

Guizot,  108,  121 

H 

Hagar  and  Ishmael  in  the  Wilderness 
[Cazin],  190 


Hague  Gallery,  144 

Hals,  Frans,  152 

Hameau,  Le,  91 

Hamon,  Jean  Louis,  161 

Harpignies,  Henri,  67 

Hay  Wain   [Constable],   136 

Hemicycle  of  the  Arts   [Delaroche],  122 

Henri  II,  45,  47,  48 

Henri  III,  45 

Henri  IV,  46,  47 

Heptameron,  The,  9 

Hercules  Causing  Diomedes  to  be  Devoured 

by  his  own  Horses  [Gros].  110 
Histoire  Ancienne    [Daumier],   126 
"History  of  the  Art  of  Antiquity,"  93 
Hoar  Frost,  The  [Rousseau],  143 
Hobbema,  177 
Holbein,  43,  161 
Holland,  76,   92,    121,   129;   influence  of, 

133,   136,   137,   138,   146,   147 
Horses  Fighting  in  a  Stable  [Delacroix], 

118 

Huet,  Paul,   128 
Hugo,   Victor,    105,    108,    112,    116,    118, 

120 

Huguenots,  45,   51 
Hundred  Years'  War,  6 
Huysmans,  J.  K.,  202,  204 


I 

Ibsen,  159 

Ideal  in  art,  The,  139,  140,  161 

Illumination,  17,  21 

Impressionism,  99,  142,  152,  166-179, 
181,  182,  183,  184,  188,  212,  217, 
218,  222 

Ingres,  Jean  Auguste  Dominique,  44,  101— 
104,  161,  167,  174,  181,  192,  193;  (Edi- 
pus  and  the  Sphinx,  101;  La  Source, 
102 ;  Portrait  of  Madame  Riviere,  102, 
44;  Portrait  of  M.  Berlin,  103;  Odal- 
isque Bathing,  167,  181;  Le  Bain 
Turc,  181 

Italian  comedy,  73,  74 

Italian  Comedy  Scene  [Lancret],  79 

Italian  culture,  7;  influence  of,  10,  15, 
37,  41,  43,  48,  50,  58,  60,  63,  67,  73, 
81,  100,  101,  132,  139,  161,  204 

Italian  Renaissance,  3,  21,  22,  126 

Ivry,  47 


Jacque,  Charles,  147 

Japanese  art,  21 ;  Japanese  influence,  21, 

172,   173,  207 
Jean  Juvenal  des  Ursins,  Group  Portrait 

[Primitive],  32,   34 
Jeanne  D'Arc,  6,   35 
Josephine,  Portrait  of  the  Empress 

[Prud'hon],  100 
Justice  and  Vengeance  Pursuing  Crime 

[Prud'hon],  100 


Lacaze  collection,  73 

La  Farge,  John,  143,  206 

La  Fontaine,  54 


£228  3 


INDEX 


Lagilliere,  Nicolas,  58,  60,  83 

Lamartine,   108 

Lancret,  Nicolas,  78 ;  Bal  du  Bois,  79 ; 
Fete  in  a  Wood,  79 ;  Conversation 
Galante,  79 ;  Italian  Comedy  Scene, 
79;  Seasons,  79 

Langue  d'Oc,  Langue  d'Oil,  5 

La  Rochefoucauld,  55 

Last  Communion  and  Martyrdom  of  St. 
Denis   [Primitive],  23 

Last  Judgment  [Cousin],  42 

Last  Judgment  [Van  Orley],  42 

Latin  strain,  3,  4,   5,  57 

La  Touche,  Gaston,  205 

League,  The,  47,  51 

Le  Brun,  57 

Le  Brun,  Mme.  Vigee,  92 

Lecouvreur,  Adrienne,  68 

Lefort,  Paul,  167 

"Le  Jus  de  la  Feuille,"  13 

Lely,  Sir  Peter,  60 

Lemoine,  78,  80 

Le  Nain,  Antoine,  61 ;  Louis,  61 ;  Matthieu, 
61;  The  Forge,  62;  Rustic  Meal,  62; 
Return  of  the  Hay-makers,  62 ;  Pro- 
cession in  a  Church,  62 

Le  Notre,  57 

Le  Reveil  [Courbet],  164 

Le  Suer,  61 

Ligurian  strain,  45 

Loge,  La  [Renoir],  180 

Lorrain,  Claude  Gellee,  63-66,  140 

Louis  Philippe,  57,   120,   126 

Louis  the  Pious,  4 

Louis  XI,  33,  51,  52 

Louis  XII,  7;  drama  flourished  under,  13 

Louis  XIII,  51,  57 

Louis  XIV,  8,  52,  54,  56,  57,  58 

Louis  XIV,  Portrait  of  [Bigaud],  58 

Louis  XV,  68,  71,  74 

Louis  XVI,  91 

Louis  XVIII,  105 

Louise  of  Savoy,  9 

Louvre,  court  at,  9;  pictured,  27;  deco- 
rations, 47;  Salon,  131 

Louvre,  Gallery  of,  22,  28 ;  primitive  por- 
traits, 31;  Foucquet,  34;  Cousin,  42; 
Cluet,  43;  Titian,  43;  Ingres,  44,  101, 
102,  103;  Goujon,  49;  school  of  Fon- 
tainebleau,  50 ;  Rigaud,  58 ;  Lagilliere, 
60;  Bourdon,  61;  Le  Nain,  62;  Pous- 
sin,  64,  65;  Watteau,  73;  Lancret,  79; 
Chardin,  88;  David,  99;  Gerard,  99; 
Prud'hon,  100;  Manet,  102,  167;  De- 
camps, 127;  Rousseau,  141;  Frago- 
nard,  181 

Luce,  Maximilian,  184,  186 

Luxembourg,  gardens  of,  70;  palace  of, 
71,  72,  81,  101,  193 


M 

Machiavelli,  45 

Maeterlinck,  171 

Maintenon,  Mme.  de,  8,  53 

"Maltre  d'Autrefois,"   136 

Malherbe,  54 

Mallarme,  202 

Malouel,  Jean,  24 

Manchester  International  Exhibition,  167 


Manet,  Edouard,  102,  145,  152,  166-170, 
176,  177,  180,  217;  The  Guitarist,  167; 
The  Boy  with  a  Sword,  167;  The 
Angels  at  the  Tomb  of  Christ,  167; 
Olympia,  102,  167;  The  Picnic,  168 

Manet,  Portrait  of   [Fantin-Latour],   192 

Mantz,  Paul,   116 

Marat,  96,  209 

Marguerite  of  France,  47 

Maria  Leczinski,  74 

Maria  Luisa,  of  Spain,  52 

Marie  Antoinette,  75,   91 

Marriage  at  Cana,  The  [Veronese],  117 

Massacre  of  Chios    [Delacroix],   114,    115 

Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  45,  46 

"Marble  manner,"  94 

Margaret  of  Navarre,  9 

"Marguerites   de   la   Marguerite   La    Prin- 
cesse,  Les,"  9 

Marilhat,  Prosper,  127 

Marot,  Clement,  9 

Materialism,  188,   199 

Maternity   [Carriere],   193 

Matisse,  Henri,  210,  211-216,  218; 
Dance,  Music,  214,  215,  216 

Mayer,  Constance,  100;  The  Unfortunate 
Family,  199 

Mayors  of  the  palace,  4 

Mazarin,  Cardinal,  52,  53 

Medea  [Delacroix],  118 

Medici,  Catherine  de',  45,  46 

Medici,  Marie  de,  47,  51,  72,  81 

Meier-Graefe,  quoted,   136,  145,  203 

Meissonier,  Jean  Louis  Ernest,  123,  124, 
125,  170;  Battle  of  Solferino,  123 

Memmi,  Simone,  28 

"Men  of  1830,"  105,   107,   108 

Menard,   Rene,   190;   Portrait  of  Louis 
Menard,  190 

"Mercure,"  quotation  from,  84 

Merovingian  dynasty,  4 

Mesdag  Museum,  146 

Metropolitan  Museum,  127,   164,  167 

Michel,  Georges,  128,  129 

Michelangelo,   49,    117,    126 

Michelet,  108,  121 

Midnight  Review,  The  [Raffet],  124 

Millet,  Jean  Francois,  67,  121,  126,  135, 
136,  138,  149-157,  159,  161,  191, 
197;  The  Winnower,  The  Sower,  150, 
153 ;  The  Gleaners,  153 ;  The  Angelus, 
155 

Miniaturists,  21 

Mirabeau,  96 

Moliere,  56 

Monclair,  Camille,  quoted,   138 

Monet,  Claude,  170,  172,  176-179;  land- 
scapes at  Vetheuil  on  Seine,  Belle-Isle, 
Thames  in  London,  Rouen  Cathedral, 
178 

Monnoyer,  Jean  Baptiste,  61 

Montesquieu,  70 

Monticelli,  Adolphe,  145,   191,   192 

Montmartre,  23,   129 

Morality  plays,  12 

Moreau,  Gustave,  202,  204;  The  Appari- 
tion, 204;  The  Cycle  of  Man,  of 
Woman,  of  the  Lyre,  of  Death,  204 

Musset,  Alfred  de,   108,    112,    124 

Mystery  and  miracle  plays,  12,  21;  influ- 
ence on  painting,  25,  42 

"Mystery  of  Ste.  Apollonia,"  25 


C229] 


INDEX 


N 

Nadar's  Gallery,  170 

Naples,  65 

Napoleon  at  Eylau  [Gros],  109 

Napoleon    Bonaparte,    96,    100,    108,    109, 

111,   123,  125 
Napoleon  III,  123 
National  Gallery,  192 
Nattier,  Jean  Marc,   83,    84,   86;   Portrait 

of    Queen    Marie    LeczinsJcy    and    her 

Daughters,  83 
Naturalism,    94,    99,  .149,    150,    157,    158, 

159,  161,  181,  188 
Nature  as  a  motive,  132,  136,   150 
Neo-Greek,  161 

Neo-impressionism,   183,    187,   216,   222 
Nerac,  court  at,  9 
Niccolo  del'Abbate,  42,  47 
Night  Patrol  at  Smyrna  [Decamps],  127 
Nominalists,  158 
Normandy,  4,  5,  63,  110 
Notan,  173 

"Nouvelle  Heloise,  La,"  87 
Nymph  of  Fontainebleau   [Cellini],  49 


Oath  of  the  Horatii   [David],  91,  94,   112 


cault],  111 
Official  patronage  of  the  arts  and  learning, 

41,  56,   69,   91,   96,   123 
Oliver  Cromwell   Viewing  the  Body  of 

Charles  1  [Delaroche],  122 
Olympia  [Manet],   102 
Orient,  The,  influence  of  the,  118,   125, 

126,    127 

Orleans,  Duke  of,  64,   68 
Orleans,  Maid  of,  6 
Ortes,  Les,  200,  201 
Ostade,  Van,  161 


Philippe  le  Bon,  Portrait  of,  31 

Picnic,  The   [Manet],   168 

Pietd  [primitive],  28,  30 

Pissarro,  Camille,  170,  172,  176,  177,  183 

Pissarro,  Lucien,  183 

Planche,  Gustave,  116,  131 

"Plutarch's  Lives,"  40 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  203 

Pointilliste,  186 

Poland,  75 

Pompadour,  Madame  de,  75,  80,  83 

Pont-Aven,  School  of,  206 

Portrait  of  a  Woman  [primitive],  33 

Poussin,  Nicolas,  63-66,  133,  134;  Et  Ego 
in  Arcadia,  64;  Time  Shelters  Truth, 
64 ;  Summer,  65 ;  Spring,  the  Earthly 
Paradise,  65 ;  Autumn,  66 

Precieuses,  Les,  55 

"Precieuses  Ridicules,  Les,"  56 

Primaticcio,  42,  47 

Primitives,  22-26,    195,   200,   206,   212, 
217 

"Prince  des  Sots,"  13 

Printing  press,  first,  39 

Prix  de  Rome,  80,  81,  94 

Procession  in  a  Church  [Le  Nain],  62 

Prout,  Samuel,  131 

Provencal  poetry,  10 

Provence,  5 

Prud'hon,  Pierre,  99,  100,  101,  193; 
Venus  and  Adonis,  100;  Rape  of 
Psyche,  100;  The  Swinging  Zephyr, 
100 ;  Justice  and  Vengeance  Pursuing 
Crime,  100 ;  Portrait  of  the  Empress 
Josephine,  100 ;  Crucifixion,  100 ;  As- 
sumption of  the  Virgin,  100 

Puvis  de  Chavannes,  195-200,  201,  206, 
215;  War,  Peace,  195,  196;  Cycle  of 
Ste.  Cfenevieve,  198 ;  Inter  Artes  et 
Naturam,  198;  Winter,  199 


"Questions  sur  Le  Beau,"  131 


Pantheon,  196 

Parc-au-Cerfs,   76 

Paris,   26,    37,    136,    142,    152,    166,    173, 

217 

Paris,  Duke  of,  5 

Parisian  types,  126,   174,   190,   207 
"Pastourelles,"  13 
Pater,  Jean  Baptiste  Joseph,  79;  Fete  in  a 

Park,    79 ;    Conversation    Galante,    79 ; 

Fete  Galante,  79 
"Pathelin,"  13 
Pavia,  defeat  of,  9 
Paysage  intime,  121,  129-148,  167 
Peace  [Puvis  de  Chavannes],  195,  196 
Pellerin,  Collection  of  M.,  220 
Penumbra,  189 
Pepin,  4 

Petersburg  Museum,  136 
Petitjean,   Hippolyte,   184,   186 
Pheasants,  Isle  of,  52 
Philip  II  of  Spain,  67 
Philip  IV  of  Spain,  52 
Philip  the  Fair,  28 


R 

Race  for  the  Derby  [Gericault],  112 

Racine,  54,   116 

Raffaelli,  Jean  Francois,  159 

Raffet,  Denis  Auguste  Marie,   124;   Mid- 
night Review,  124 

Raft  of  the  Medusa,  The  [Gericault],  111, 
113 

Rambouillet,  Hotel  de,  55 

Rape  of  Psyche  [Prud'hon],  100 

Rape  of  the  Sabine  Women  [David],  99 

Raphael,  64,   101,   117,   161 

Ravaillac,  47 

Ravenna,  16 

Ray  Fish,  The  [Chardin],  88 

Realism,  99,  109,  158,  160-165 

Recamier,  Madame,  99 

Rtcamier,  Portrait  of  Mme.  [David],  99 

Redon,  Odilon,  203 ;  Beatrice,  203 

Rejane,  Portrait  of  [Besnard],  205 

Renoir,  Auguste,   170,    173,   180-182;   La 
Loge,  180,  181 

Rhythm,  150,  213 

Ribera,  161 


£230  3 


INDEX 


Rodin,  153 

Romanticism,  81,  99,   101,  105,  106,  108- 

130,  143,  145,  167,  168,  186,  188 
Rood,  Professor,  177,  183 
Rossini,  191 
Rousseau,   Theodore,   121,    131-142,    145, 

149;     CStt    de    Granville,     131,     136; 

Edge  of  the  Forest — Sunset,  141,  142; 

Hoar  Frost,  143 
Ruysdael,  Jacob,  133,  137,  138,  177 


Thierry,   108 

Thiers,  116,   121 

"Thoughts     on     the     Imitation     of     Greek 

Works  in  Painting  aiid  Sculpture,"  93 
Timber-Wagon,  The   [Daubigny],  145 
Time  Shelters  Truth  '[Poussin],  64 
Titian,  portrait  of  Francis  I  by,  43 
Toulouse-Lautrec,  Henri  de,  207 
Troyan,  Constant,  146 
Turner,  Joseph  Mallord  William,  176 


Saint-Beuve,  108,   116 

Saint-Just,  96 

Saintsbury,  quoted,  6,  10,  56,  59 

"Salammbo,"  202,  204 

Salle  des  Fetes,  47 

Salon  Carre,  59 

"Salon  des  Impressionistes,"   170 

Salon  d'Hercule,  80 

Salon,  The,   86,    91,    101,    105,    111,    114, 

124,    129,   131,    160,   200 
Sarto,  Andrea  del,  42 
Scaliger,  40 
Scarron,  53 
Schiller,  107 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  107 
Scourging  of  Christ  [primitive],  25 
Scudery,  Mile.,  56 
Sedan,  123 
Segantini,  186 
Seurat,   George,    177,    183,    186;    Un   Di- 

manche  a  la  Grande-Jatte,  183 
Sevigny,  Madame  de,  56 
Shaftsbury,  Earl  of,  quoted,   118,   150 
Shakespeare,    influence    of,    37,    40,'  55, 

107,  115,  117,  150 
Sidaner,  Henri,  191 
Siecle,  Le  Grand,  54,  57,  83 
Signac,  Paul,  183-186 
Simon,  Lucien,  159 
Simplification  of  Puvis,   196;   of  Matisse, 

213 

Sisley,  Alfred,  170,   179 
Sistine  Chapel,  126 
Son  Chastened,  The   [Greuze],   86 
Sorbonne,   The,    100;    decorations   in,    99, 

205 

Sorel,  Agnes,  36 
Soto,  De,  41 
"Sotties,"  13 
Source,  La  [  Ingres  1,  102 
Sower,  The   [Millet],   151 
Spanish  Succession,  War  of,  52,  53 
Spartan  ideal,  92 

Spring,  the  Earthly  Paradise  [Poussin],  65 
Stael,  Madame  de,   106,    107;    "Corinne," 

107;     "Delphine,"     107;     "Literature 

Considered    in    its    Relation    to    Social 

Institutions,"   107 
Sterling-Maxwell,  Sir  William,   167 
Stone -Breakers,  The    [Courbet],   160,    163 
Summer  [Poussin],  65 
Swinging  Zephyr  [Prud'hon],  100 


u 


Ukiyoye,   173 


Tahiti,  206 

Th6atre  Francais,  13 


Valliere,  Mme.  de,  53 

Valois,  House  of,  6,  46 

Van  Dyck,  177 

Van  Loo,  Charles  Andre   (Carl),  85,  86 

Van  Loo,  Charles  Andre  Philippe,  85 

Van  Loo,  Jean  Baptiste,  80,  85 

Van  Loo,  Louis  Michel,  85 

Van  Marcke,  Emile,  147 

Van  Orley,  Last  Judgment  compared  with 

Cousin,  42 
Varley,  John,   131 
Velasquez,    24,    52,    117,    152,    161,    167, 

168,   173,   174,   176,   180,  193 
Venetian  art,  76,  113,  168 
Venire  Legislatif,  Le   [Daumier],   126 
Venus  and  Adonis   [Prud'hon],   100 
Verlaine,  Paul,  202 
Vermeer   of  Delft,   89;   Diana  and   her 

Nymphs,  144 

Vernet,  Horace,  111,   125;  Mazeppa,  125 
Veronese,  Paul,  117 
Versailles,  56,   57,   71,   75,   80,  91 
Versailles  Gallery,  83,   125 
Vien,  Joseph  Marie,  93 
Vigny,  Alfred  de,  108 
Village  Bride,  The   [Greuze],  86 
Ville  d'Avray,  136 
Vinci,  Leonardo  da,  42 
Viollet-le-duc,  quoted,  21 
Virgil,  149,   150 

Virgin  and  Child  [Foucquet],  35 
Vollard  Gallery,  220 
Voltaire,  59 
"Voyage  du  Jeune  Anacharsis,"  92 


W 

Wace,  11 

Wagon  de  Troisieme  Classe  [Daumier] 

125 

Wallace  Collection,  81 
Walters  Collection,  143 
War  [Puvis  de  Chavannes],  195 
Watteau,  Antoine,  58,   72-74,  81,  82,   100, 

113,    134,    192,   205;   Embarkation  for 

the  Island  of  Cythera,  68,   73;   Gities, 

73,  74 

Whistler,  170 
"Wild  Men,  The,"  211 
Winckelmann,    "History     of     the     Art     of 


[231] 


INDEX 

Antiquity,"     93;     "Thoughts     on     the  Y 

Imitation  of  Greek  Works  in  Painting      ..  _  .  .  _  _.       r_   , 

and  Sculpture."  93,  94  Young   Princes   in   the   Tower,   The    [Del. 

Winnower,  The  fkillet],  150,  153  roche],  122 

Winter  [Puvis  de  Chavannes],  199  7 

Women  Bathing   [Fragonard],   181  * 

World's  Exposition  of  1855,  160  Zola,  168,  170,  171,  217 

Wounded  Cuirassier  [Gericault],  111  Zurbaran,  30,  161 


C232] 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles     ART  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


MAR  11  1992 
ECE!  VE 

MAR  1 1  1992 


315 


**T*  n 


UCLA-Art  Library 

ND541C11S 


.OF-CAl 


L  006  225  412  3 


—"Si 

408    4 


ALIFO% 


i  '  *c.  ^x 


